The Glass Sandal
by Darma Druid
Summary: The known cast with a known story - the Middle Earth version of Cinderella. Though related to the 'Irulan's and reading them before is recommended, could be enjoyed by itself, too, I think.
1. Default Chapter

I am back! As obsessed with Middle Earth as ever, I'm afraid. I have thought about writing another story for the longest time now, and it had crossed my mind before to write a combination of humor and romance. And yet, I have grown so used to the characters of my Irulan stories, that it seemed almost impossible to write a romance that concerned Legolas and someone other than Irulan. Then it hit me……I can re-write one of the most beloved fairy tales of all times under a new light - the sick and disturbing perspective of my own mind's eye! 

So this story was born. Once again, it is meant only for entertainment. Once again, it is unfortunately very closely related to the Irulan series, since I based the characters on those and since little of what I want to imply would come across without knowing them. So, even though it would take considerable time and effort, I recommend reading those before starting this one. 

There is, however, a major difference – the story is –however changed now- the classic story of Cinderella, and the genre will be humor and romance. So basically we have something with no action and angst at hand. It is written to spend a good time and hopefully will cause just that. 

And just in case, let me put this straight: I know it has been done before. I also of course know that Tolkien owns all of Middle Earth and the related characters and that my distortions to those shall only be pitied upon. I also know that it will not be a piece of original and fantastic art. So spare yourself the effort of writing flames. Constructive criticism, on the other hand, is more than welcome. 

***************

She was watching the horizons from the window. The bed sheet was hanging limply from her hands, forgotten, as a wonderfully warm summer breeze gently shook it. 'There HAS to be more than this to life!' she thought bitterly and sighed once more. 'There is a whole world out there! So many things happening even at this very moment…....but what am I doing? NOTHING! I don't mind the cooking......but the cleaning is simply UNBEARABLE!' 

"Irulan!" screeched a voice suddenly and she came back to the present. "Where the hell are you?" 

Irulan rolled her eyes. "Not where I wish to be, that's for sure!" she mumbled and hastily resumed pulling in the bed sheet and then walked over to the bed, spreading it. 

The door banged open and Vessun stormed in. "Irulan! What is wrong with you, you wench? You are getting lazy by the day!"

Irulan continued spreading the sheet, pursing her lips. She dared not turn to look in fear that her contempt might show on her face. 

Vessun of course would not leave her alone. She stomped into the room and threw herself on the very sheet that Irulan was trying to spread! Naturally, Irulan stopped and looked up at her step sister, trying to suppress her rage. Vessun smiled an evil smile and never looking away, slowly put her feet up and lay them on the bed. Instantly the snow white sheet was smeared with mud from her shoes. "Ooopps," she said playfully, "now you will have to wash them, Irulan. You know I can not sleep on them unless they are SPOTLESS!"

Irulan swallowed hard. She could kick Vessun and send her flying off to receive a mirror kick from the opposite wall. And that always felt incredibly good, of course. However.......the punishment was becoming too horrible to bear. Vessun seemed to follow her train of thought and although she knew that her mother would punish Irulan severely if she dared to harm her, that would only happen AFTER she received serious bruises. She tensed a little and stood up to walk away from the bed, trying not to look intimidated. 

"Anyway….....you have prior duties at the moment," Vessun said, getting up with mild displeasure at Irulan's missing reaction on her face. She clasped her hands behind her back and decided to proceed torturing and nudging her step sister until she managed to inflame said reaction. 

"Such as?" said Irulan, pulling the bed sheet off the bed and trying not to rip it during the process. 

"Don't tell me you forgot!" shrieked Vessun. 

"You must forgive me, sister," hissed Irulan, "but if I actually HAD a brain, I would certainly not be here in this position right now!"

Vessun waved the argument away with a graceful gesture. 'Most probably because she could not understand the statement!' thought Irulan. "Our dresses, Irulan! You have to go to the town center to pick them up! The party is in a couple of days, you stupid woman!"

Irulan rolled her eyes. "I mean.....my life is miserable as it is, and now I have to go to the town and fight other vicious females so that I can get those dresses out before the others and in one piece?"

Vessun looked at her with amusement. "Perhaps you would like to discuss the issue with mother?"

Irulan sighed with contempt. "I would love to go, Vessun. However, I will have to finish cleaning......and since that will take about AGES........you might want to drag your own butt down there!"

"Never mind the cleaning," came a soft voice from behind her, "you can always continue when you return."

Irulan sighed in desperation. She could kick Vessun. And sure enough, she could kick this other sister of hers.......but this one would kick back for years. She waited a moment too long before she mumbled "As you wish, Hetaire."

***

Legolas was looking out over the elegant balcony of his palace into the woods. "There has to be a better way," he said softly, his eyes still roaming over the high trees. 

"Legolas, there is NO other way. We have already arranged everything!" said Aragorn, almost feeling like moaning now. 

"Aragorn! I mean......have mercy on my soul!" the elf said with mild anger. "How can I possibly dance ALL night with hundreds of women?!"

"Legolas my friend, you have to dance only with those you like," Aragorn said softly and put his hand on his friend's shoulder. 

The other just pursed his lips. "Then pray tell me, how will I know if I like them or not if I don't dance with them?!"

Aragorn remained silent for a moment. Now that was true....... "Look, Legolas, we have prepared everything," he said finally, unable to come up with anything else. "You'll just use your elven instincts or something. We can not back out of this now." He stepped next to Legolas and watched his blank expression for a moment. "Besides, even if it might be a torturous night for you, others might find someone to share their lives with."

Legolas nodded softly. "I know, Aragorn. It just seems.......wrong.......to judge someone by such standards." 

"I understand your concern. However," said Aragorn with a lighter voice, "there is no other way to meet every woman in your kingdom. And since you don't seem to be too interested in the ladies of the higher circles you deal with, this might at least gain you some interesting friends. You don't have to marry anyone right away, you know."

Legolas sighed softly again. "I do not seem to have a choice in the matter, anyway," he said and walked away from the balcony. 

"You don't," said Aragorn matter-of-factly and followed him inside. "Not to mention that Boromir and Eomer would simply kill you if you changed your mind now. They have been waiting for this event for weeks now."

Legolas smiled despite himself. "True, Estel. Let us get on with the task, then."

Aragorn grinned. "Legolas, you are the only person who could feel distressed over a matter that concerns beautiful women by the hundreds!" 

***

"One of these days, Chemarit! One of these days….." began Irulan, and then bit herself to silence. Instead of words, a heavy sigh that smelled of desperation and bitterness rose from her. Chemarit kept puffing on his pipe, but threw her a sidelong glance. Irulan was softly rocking with the movements of the cart, her elbows on her knees, her face cupped by her hands, an expression of utter sourness emanating from her face. 

"One of these days what, Irulan?" he said finally and watched her breaking out of her trance. 

"One of these bloody days I will grasp those two witches by the throats and then just….just SQUEEZE," she said, her voice approaching a whisper and a dark satisfaction taking hold of her features. "Yes……" she continued a moment later, with glazed eyes, "squeeze until those throats will utter no sound until all eternity!"

Chemarit chuckled despite himself. "Hard to imagine," he said matter of factly. 

Irulan sighed and sat upright to take a better look at her surroundings. The little cart was still moving through the patch of dense forest that stood between their home and the town. It was a beautiful summer day, dry and crisp and the air smelled of the cleanness that follows a storm. And indeed, there had been a storm the day before. Mud pools covered the little path and rocked the cart as it passed on them. 

"How easy it seems," she said, lost in thought. She turned to Chemarit with misty eyes and a wry smile. "You could just keep going, old man. Keep going, until we pass through the town, then the Misty Mountains and valleys beyond, then whatever lies after those. You could just snicker and let the horse take us away from all this……towards a new life."

Chemarit did not answer right away. He kept puffing on his pipe and the silence grew heavy with the images of such a deed. "I would have expected you to have done so a long time ago, Irulan."

Irulan cocked her head and gazed ahead again, not really seeing anything. "So would I," she added with an almost inaudible murmur. 

"And why you still refuse to leave, remains a mystery to me."

Irulan heard the slight scolding in the tone and tensed a little. "Walk away from one cage to another?" she said finally, her own voice a little bitter as well. "Walk aimlessly from here to there until some man decides to claim me? Or own me? Until someone else manages to stuff me back into the life I ran away from? Middle Earth does not seem that kind when you are a woman!" she spat. 

"Is it not worth a try, at least?" Chemarit said a little softer. "You have to reach out for your own freedom, Irulan. You have to CLAIM it. No one will offer it to you."

Irulan looked away again and bit her lip. Once again her heart and her mind clashed and she almost let out a frustrated sigh at the familiar feeling. Once more the images of herself walking away bloomed in her mind and etched themselves into her brain like branding a mark on her. An impossibly sharp longing erupted in her and was only suppressed by an equally strong feeling of frustration that came with the thought of desperation. She swallowed hard and pursed her lips. "One of these days….." she said, her voice husky with emotion and left it at that. The remainder of the journey stretched out in awkward silence. 

****


	2. Meeting of Flame and Ice

IMPORTANT NOTE:  
  
Everyone who will read the story from this point on - be warned. For it is my intention to make outrageous changes to both the fairy tale, and the culture of Middle Earth. The first being, ridding the elves of their immortality. Yes, go ahead and read again. In this story, elves are not immortal. They are mortal, like all the other races in Middle Earth. Their other characteristics, such as grace, wisdom, maturity, artistic spirit, speed, agility, endurance and stamina etc., however, prevails.  
  
For one thing, it is for the sake of the tale. But more important...I felt the impulse to explore a Middle Earth where this was so. At first, I felt appalled at the idea, for immortality seemed to be such an integrant part of elves. But then, keeping in mind that nothing else about them changed, it seemed not too drastic, after all. And it gave me the feeling of doing something original. Think of it as a derivation and variation of Middle Earth. The original will always remain, why not try to look at things from a slightly different perspective? Besides, I found it also more challenging, establishing new rules for a known world and make them sound plausible. And who am I to turn away from a challenge like that??  
  
So began the changes I mercilessly did to the cultures and creatures of Middle Earth. But do not be intimidated - our heroes are still who you know them to be. And going along the way, I felt elated to write something a little different, that would also bear the tinge of the fairy tale of Cinderella.  
  
I can only hope that you will like it too. I believe in an open mind, and no taboos. An open minded person would perhaps cringe at such changes, but then feel intrigued and think "Let us just imagine for once that.." I know that ME may seem like a completely different place now, with everything that's coming up, but I trust that my readers have an adventurous spirit and will rather enjoy the unknown.  
  
What resulted was an odd, but in my opinion nevertheless quite interesting merging of Middle Earth, Cinderella and Irulan. A fairy tale, in short - no more, no less.  
  
**************************  
  
"Chemarit!" Irulan yelled again and finally the old man blinked and managed to tear his eyes away from the nervous chickens in the cage that stood across the road. He came eye to eye with the owner of the cage, a woman that looked older than the Mines of Moria, and winked at her narrowed and quite unfriendly expression before he turned to look down at a bewildered Irulan.  
  
"Hold your horses! What is it, woman?!!"  
  
Irulan unconsciously rolled her hands into fists as the crimson on her face deepened by a shade. She was yet again briefly hit on the shoulder as the mass of people moved around her, muttering at the 'damn cart parked in the middle of the marketplace', but in her fury and irritation hardly noticed it.  
  
"I said I will meet you in an hour by the city gates, you old goat! You better be there, or else....!"  
  
"Yeah yeah..." mumbled Chemarit and gracefully ignored the last part of her comment. Casting one last and quite meaningful look at the cage of chickens, he snickered and led the cart out of the tight space, away from the crowded marketplace.  
  
Irulan remained behind, rooted to her spot for several minutes. She closed her eyes and tried to inhale again. The summer sun was beginning to gain strength and the air was humid with the recent remainders of the rain. The marketplace was crowded as ever, and even more so, now that the infamous ball was to be held in a matter of days. The crowd and the heat were pressing down on her like evil forces and Irulan felt as if her lungs were shrinking by the moment, denying her breath.  
  
Finally, a very long time later, she opened her eyes again with a somewhat regained focus and control and began the tedious process of walking towards the borders of the marketplace. The further she got, the less crowded it became and the noisy yells and quarrels of the buyers and sellers was soon only an echo behind her, replaced by soft laughter and the swish of expensive garments. Irulan found herself in a garden of women! Women of all sizes and shapes and many races adorned the streets in garments of such variety, that even someone as disinterested as herself remained dumbstruck and spellbound. "The whole kingdom is here!" she thought in amazement, staring at the beauty and grace around her, adorning even the simpler and poorer districts of the capital and giving it an unusual and somewhat absurd look.  
  
She was walking in such amazement and awe, that she did not realize that the crowd around her had stopped moving. Neither did she make note of the hush that settled or the soft whispers that moved through the mass of people like soft waves on water. Naturally, not having seen these, she also took no notice of it when she walked through a final line of females and then suddenly into an empty space. An empty space that was cleared for a reason, which reason -shall we also add very ungracefully- rammed into her momentarily and sent her flying off to sit on a particularly wet and soft muddy spot on the road.  
  
If it was silent before, it was a graveyard kind of silence then.  
  
"Aaaarrrggghhh!" rumbled Irulan with frustration as she felt the wetness seeping through the bottom of her dress. And something very Irulan-like happened: She felt furious. To say the least.  
  
"What in the bloody......." she began with a voice that ringed in the silence and jumped up instantly to prevent further damage to her garment.  
  
"My apologies........er.......dear lady, I did not see you," came a strong masculine voice from behind her.  
  
"Are you BLIND?" she shot back and seeing that the spot marking her behind was rather beyond mend at this point, turned around to give this ox a good lesson.  
  
The ox was a man. No, a handsome man. No, a handsome man that looked of importance. He stood a small distance away from her, clad in black, expensive clothes that spoke of wealth and taste. His auburn hair was stuck behind his ears, giving a good view of his handsome features. A sword hung by his side, indicating that he was not any man that one would normally run into in these streets.  
  
"Not the least," was the amused answer as his green eyes lazily took in the view of Irulan and failed to show any other emotion than mild disinterest. "As a matter of fact, you walked into my way, dear."  
  
"YOUR way?" Irulan heard herself saying and suddenly she wondered how she managed to do that, while her brain was busy registering this surprising twist of events, along with the incoming party of similarly dressed men right behind the one before her. At the same moment she heard another wave of whispers mingling with the giggling that was blooming around her now. She clenched her jaw, suddenly feeling over-exposed, standing in the middle of an empty space, surrounded by hundreds of people, with a muddy behind and a noble looking man before her. "I do not see your name on it, whatever that may be," she hissed to him, feeling shame rising in her, slowly seeping into her anger.  
  
The man before her blinked and then slowly smiled, looking Irulan up and down again, as if seeing her for the first time. This, of course, made the woman even angrier, for it made her feel like an exotic insect under a loop. "Boromir," he said a moment later and the name was followed by yet another chorus of sighs and squeaks.  
  
Irulan felt something tugging at her brain then.......a meaning that came with that name......but it was so faint and so mixed up with other alarms, she failed to pick it out. The rest of the men had arrived and stood leisurely behind Boromir, looking with mild curiosity at the scene and trying to figure out what this was all about. Something about the way they were made Irulan feel suddenly anxious and afraid, though she felt neither too often. And she hated both feelings with utmost disgust.  
  
Which led her to push her chin up and look Boromir in the eye. "It was not a question," she said levelly. "I could care less about your name. However, it proves the point. It is hardly YOUR street, is it now, Boromir?" she added with dripping sarcasm. Her part of the conversation was granted with a gasp from the audience and another blink from Boromir who was expecting anything but.  
  
"I said 'my way', my lady," he replied finally, somewhat irritated that a simple matter as such should all of a sudden become so difficult. "For I was walking in this direction until......"  
  
"Oh so next time I should pay more attention, dear sir, since obviously once you start to walk in a certain DIRECTION, you are unable to alter your course when the need arises!"  
  
"What I meant....."  
  
"Oh spare me!" Irulan rudely cut him off. The unexplainable fear she felt for him was also the reason why she suddenly felt this never before tasted satisfaction of trashing him. And a feeling of fleeting freedom suddenly erupted in her. She was free to act like this. She was a simple and ignorant, crude woman who did not know better, was she not? It was only understandable. An absurd realization swept through her - she was free to act in a way all these women around her would never be. And her heart soared with that realization.  
  
"What has happened, Boromir?" suddenly echoed another and softer voice and broke her nirvana. A man moved to stand beside Boromir, whose face spoke of shock and frustration. And if Boromir was regal, this man was certainly divine. His blonde, straight hair hung below his shoulders, framing a face of incredibly handsome features. He, too, was clad in black, and the dark color was a dashing contrast to his fair skin, making him look even more unreal. There was something very......unusual about him, though Irulan could not make out what it was. Until she saw his pointed ears, that is. Something that only elves were capable of and something that was very hard to overlook - the clashing of opposites that defied the human mind. Incomprehensible wisdom with the face of youth. Utter strength with soft gentleness. A leisure and relaxed demeanor with silent and yet evident capability and prowess.  
  
Yet again, a feeling of fear crashed on Irulan, as she stood there, stupefied and bewildered by a blinking, a warning in her brain that she could not make out. And yet again, it made her only feel angry once more.  
  
"I was trying to explain to this lady....." Boromir began with a voice that spoke of tense control, when Irulan's voice boomed again and surprised everyone - including herself.  
  
"I am no lady!"  
  
This time both men blinked in unison.  
  
The crowd gasped.  
  
A staring contest prevailed for a few seconds as Irulan, who hated to be the center of attention, found unexpected pleasure in being so for the first time.  
  
"What exactly is the matter here?" the blonde elf tried again with a blank voice.  
  
"We......ran into each other," Boromir said dryly, his eyes not leaving Irulan.  
  
Irulan barely kept herself from snorting. "No. YOU ran into ME, because I was in YOUR way," she said sheepishly. "But rest assured, for the world did not come to an abrupt halt. We can carry on with our insignificant lives, even though the mark of the contact shall prevail for all eternity!" And to prove the point, she turned around and offered them a view of her muddy behind. That only served their eyes to widen and their eyebrows to rise - again, in unison.  
  
And then something very unexpected happened and ended Irulan's pleasure right there and then. The unbelievable blue eyes of the elf wandered up the dress and locked with hers as his head slightly tilted to the side and a smile such as Irulan had never seen on another face, slowly pulled his lips. And she felt as if she was looked at by the creator himself. The eerie sensation that flamed in her was so strong, that she unconsciously took a step back and only then realized how absurd the scene before her was. Why was everyone gathered like this? Why was nobody leaving? Certainly the event was amusing and interesting to some, but it was an everyday thing in the city.......why the rapt attention?  
  
"I see," said the elf softly and stepped up to Irulan, who, finding the distance between them too diminished (although it was several feet), took another back and in doing so, stepped into the mud once more. Only she felt too confused at the moment to realize this.  
  
"Please allow us an apology," he said, seemingly oblivious to the crowd around him, looking at Irulan as if she was the only living being in the kingdom.  
  
"But......Your Highness......" whispered Boromir from behind him between clenched teeth.  
  
The other just gave him a mere look and Boromir swallowed, lowering his head in acceptance and not saying another word.  
  
At that point, not knowing what else to do and finding the situation increasingly not amusing at all, Irulan swiftly turned around and cut herself through the crowd, eager to disappear from the scene and to get to the damn dresses that were the cause of all this, in the first place. Disturbing the peace of nobles and rich people had felt incredibly good -like sweet revenge on some grander scale- but Irulan was not so stupid as to believe that her actions were also not dangerous. If she insisted in being fresh, someone could easily enough grab her arm and drag her off for complaints and charges and considering that her word would be against theirs, the outcome of that would certainly not be nice. For one thing, her stepmother would make sure that she never ever left the house again. The thought of her stepmother brought back the idea of the dresses and the tailor store and panic rising in her with the realization of how much time she had wasted, Irulan began to move faster among the crowd, and reaching the outer skirts, managed do free herself from it entirely, now hastily running towards her destination.  
  
And somewhere along that run, a horror like no other descended on her as she thought "Wait a minute...........YOUR HIGHNESS??!!!"  
  
*******  
  
When Legolas turned around to face the woman again, she was gone. For a moment, his mind refused to believe it. The fact she had actually walked away from him without asking for permission first, seemed oddly hard to grasp. His eyebrows knitted slightly in confusion and as he scanned the throng, he saw her head bobbing up and down as she slowly disappeared into the crowd. Countless explanations to this oddity filled his head, then. She had not recognized him. She was not a local. She was insane. She was going through something so mind blowing, she actually did not care. She had been afraid. She had been ashamed. She had not meant to be rude, but did not know better.......and so and so forth.  
  
And each and every one of these should have sufficed to still his mind and make him return to his task at hand, dismissing the event and forgetting about it the minute he turned his back and walked away. Yet, due to some incomprehensible perversion of Fate, none did. As a matter of fact, as he stood behind, his gaze following her trail among the people, all thought left his mind and when his feet moved to follow her, it was not with a particular idea in mind. It was rather a pull.........a current that oozed him into it. It was so unconscious and ordinary an action, that it evaded explanation, although in his mind, Legolas -as was the way of the elves- would often enough return to the moment and try to analyze the feelings that had made him follow Irulan that day.  
  
Imagine a man, sleeping, lost in slumber and dreams, fugitive in some other world. Then imagine a cool breeze blowing in through the window this man has, by mere accident, forgotten to close that night. Then imagine the very understandable, and yet quite unaware action of the man, as he turns his back towards the window to seek warmth.  
  
Imagine a woman reading a book, until the later hours of the afternoon. As she is breathing in some other dimension, let us assume, healing wounded by the hundreds, followed by their looks of awe and adoration, walking amongst the seemingly endless rows of lying bodies, think of the failing light when the day submits to the night. Then imagine her leaning towards the clear sky from underneath the shadow of the tree she had been sitting in, in pursue of more light to ease her eyes, but not aware of doing so as her mind lies trapped in some unfulfilled story.  
  
Such was the pursuit of Legolas. It was performed with utmost ease, a feeling that accompanies only the most natural of all actions. Irulan left and his feet followed - as simple as that. And all the time, Fate smiled with satisfaction.  
  
***  
  
Author's Note: My beloved readers (insert squeak!)!! I have found you again! Or rather, you have found me again! How wonderful that you still find interest in my ramblings, though they seem to be getting outrageous by the day! Of all the readers in the world, I know YOU are patient enough to read through it before you judge it and adventurous enough to not falter at the sight of such extreme changes. After all..you went through Irulan and Irulan II!  
  
I have missed you too and do not fear - I will most definitely continue with Irulan III. This one is just an attempt to find fun in something different.  
  
Darma Druid 


	3. That Makes Two Of Us

".......and so it was that evil spread from Mordor and invaded the many lands and sights of Middle Earth. Many fell in it's face, and such things that Middle Earth would never see in it's beauty and splendor again, was slain and lost. It was the darkest times, the deepest of nights, as each race and each culture paid its toll. Then, as hope dwindled and light failed, came Uroth, son of Ungol, high ruler of elves, who was like no other before him in mind and heart. Though none knew it then, he was destined to bring together the two enemy races of men and elves under one flag and declare his kind as protector and guide of his human brethren. It was but the birth of Ithilien, home to Man and Eldar, equal to none and master over many..."  
  
The Book of Ages, Chapter VIII - History of Elves and Men Page 2032 "Of Ithilien"  
  
********  
  
"I will be DAMNED!" roared the voice in Irulan's head. "No! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" She swiftly closed her eyes as the world began to gently swoon and swim again. The dread was a solid and undeniable lump in her throat, refusing to go down. A very uncomfortable heat had exploded in her, burning her hands, her cheeks, her eyelids, forcing sweat to ooze out of her pores.  
  
"Irulan, you have just scolded Boromir, First Captain of the armies of Ithilien," said a smooth voice and the amusement dripping from it was hard to miss.  
  
Irulan swallowed hard, but the lump prevailed. "I did NOT!" she shot back mentally.  
  
"Not to mention........"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Oh yes!"  
  
"NO!"  
  
"Bloody yes!"  
  
"NO!" she screeched and made a few heads turn to throw an uneasy glance at this woman, who was standing dumbstruck in the middle of the street, looking like she was about to die. Irulan noticed none. "It can not be him," she whispered to herself, but it was only half-hearted, since her mind and her heart had both agreed on the fact that it had indeed be no other than Prince Legolas himself, sole ruler of the kingdom of Seven Districts, sire to lands of the Nine Tribes.  
  
She had seen him only once, when she had been merely nine, at the festivities that heralded the coming of spring and served as a ceremony for the re-assertion of peace and splendor that the kingdom had been blessed with for such a long time under such precious reign. Her father had dragged her for hours around the square to find a better spot and finally, what seemed like years later to her, had hauled her up to his shoulders so that she would see the prince himself riding down the street. Irulan had marveled at the noise, at the crowd, at all the infinite colors in such abundance, at the feeling of pure joy and pride ringing in the air like lingering thunder clouds. And she had marveled at Prince Legolas, who, in all his ethereal beauty was the reason for all this.  
  
Now, as the memory of that long forgotten day came back to her, she easily matched the high cheekbones, the long blonde hair, the lithe but strong form. She immediately opened her eyes, and with the instincts of a prey in the open, hastily scanned her surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary. She let out a shaky breath and wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. It was then that an odd feeling overcame her.  
  
Anyone who has accomplished tasks deemed unthinkable, would understand the waves of confidence and satisfaction that slowly took hold of Irulan's psyche. True, she had been shocked by the realization of what had just taken place. And yet....it was no reason not to enjoy the justice in the event. After all, Boromir -Captain Boromir, that is- had indeed rammed into her and then acted rather rude. If it had been a lady of higher circles, he would most certainly have been much more polite. Irulan pushed up her chin at the idea of that. Though Ithilien spoke of equality and justice between elves and men, it offered no such justice between men and women, and much less so between rich and poor. Yes, the elves in their wisdom and maturity treated all with the same respect and sincerity, but being so little in number, and so reserved in life-style, elves were not an every-day sight even in the heart of the city. They preferred the tranquil atmosphere of libraries and schools as men, in their astonishing number, filled the streets and continued to plague the kingdom with their characteristics, so well known since ancient times. Ithilien was splendid and rich and peaceful. And yet, underneath all that, and after all that political glamour was stripped away, it was but the same rotten culture of Man, that even the elves in their patience and wisdom, had failed to change.  
  
Irulan looked around her. These streets held perhaps no crime, under the strict watch of the law that brought safety and order to it, and yet they held prejudice, contempt, jealousy and rivalry. She sighed. It was astonishing what man was capable of - a creature swaying between the havens of angels and beasts, in a sea where storms never ceased.  
  
The satisfaction that had bloomed in her, now grew to full splendor. She, Irulan, daughter of a man of no importance and step daughter to a woman of even lesser importance, had stood proud and solid, facing the rulers of the kingdom, who also happened to be men (er..not to mention...quite handsome men). She had not whimpered and fainted, she had not given in to their overpowering dominance, she had not given up her fight and run away. Alright, so maybe that last part could be scratched out. "In any case," Irulan thought hastily, suppressing the image of herself delving into the crowd while Prince Legolas and Captain Boromir seemed distracted, "I have stood up to my rights to be treated as an equal. And it felt damn good to bash some overgrown egos!"  
  
With a new boost, she looked up to the store across the street. She rolled up her sleeves and pushed up her chin. "If I can handle the Prince and the First Captain, I can sure as hell handle a bunch of wild women!" she grunted and stomped towards her destination.  
  
At that, she was wrong beyond measure.  
  
***  
  
Irulan soon enough had forgotten about how women were pressed into passiveness, treated roughly and unfair while men were beasts with whips. As a matter of fact, she felt like a whip was exactly what the female gender deserved to get. At that moment another foot stomped on hers and Irulan shouted out with the pain. However, once again, in this insane crowd, there was no way to locate the woman responsible of it. She felt herself pushed forward and only willingly obliged, hoping that it would bring her closer to the counter that ran along the three walls of the large store, for then she would have a chance of reaching the dresses of her stepsisters, which, under these circumstances, seemed a greater challenge than the Pass of Caradhras.  
  
For minutes Irulan fought and struggled fiercely in the sea of women that was an insult to her body, her ears, her eyes and her senses. She had known that this would be difficult, considering this to be the store of the finest tailor in the city, but this was beyond any of her imaginations. When her abdomen finally hit the counter, sending a sharp pain through her body, she felt like she had fought against the armies of Saruman with bare hands and gained victory. Irulan quickly scrambled up the counter - a task that was rather impossible for a woman in a gown, but not so for Irulan, who wore no gown but a simple dress and who did not mind to show a bit of leg at this point. She glided down to the other side and found herself between two store clerks, caught in a mad swirl of gowns and fabrics, swirling like dervishes in the futile attempt to satisfy their female customers.  
  
That is when she caught sight of the owner of the store, and could not help herself from calling out to him, even though she knew that he would never hear her in this tumult. Not daring to look away, as the old and rather fat man fought his way over the counter towards the other corner of the room, she pushed aside one of the clerks and hastily walked up to him, all the time careful to stay out of the reach of the claws of women who were trying to grab anyone across the counter to get some attention and help.  
  
"Harkey!" she yelled again, when she was close enough and by some miracle, the man actually responded to his name, turning around to look at Irulan. Under different circumstances Irulan would have laughed out loud at his current looks - his clothes torn in several places, his hair in unusual disarray, his face twisted with terror and exhaustion. But sharing said circumstances at the moment, the humor evaded her. Harkey only blinked in reply and Irulan, finally having reached him, almost shook him by the shoulders, thinking that he had lost his wits along with many other things.  
  
"Harkey! I have come for the dresses!" she yelled over the tumult.  
  
"I have one thing to say, Irulan," the man yelled back with madness in his beady eyes, "GET LOST!"  
  
With that, he turned around and attempted to climb the ladder that reached up to the higher shelves - each of which was momentarily stuffed with garments and clothes.  
  
Irulan this time DID grab him by the shoulders and roughly pulled him back. "Give me those damn dressed and I will," she screamed.  
  
"There is NO way I can find them now! I will send them to your house later, I promise."  
  
Irulan shook her head in rejection. "I HAVE to bring them back with me, Harkey. Now I hate to be a burden, and you know how annoying a burden I can be. So just hand them to me nicely!"  
  
Under other circumstances, Harkey, who was a rather anxious buddy, would be a good boy and instantly proceed to do as said. However, the women seemed to have stolen the last remnants of his mind, for he roughly jerked his shoulder back and glared at her a moment too long before he continued: "At this point, Irulan, killing me would be a favor. So, once again, GET LOST!"  
  
"Now you listen to me to old fat toad.." Irulan began, but she never finished the sentence when the realization of a sudden silence hit her. And by the looks of it, it hit Harkey too. Both remained stupefied for a moment, then followed the looks of the mass of frozen women, who had seemed a threat to all life in Middle Earth a moment ago, to the large doors of the store that stood open to give entrance of an unusual company.  
  
Irulan and Harkey stood staring together and as realization hit them both, they both blanched at the same time, though each for very different reasons.  
  
"This is a dream," thought Harkey as his eyes rested on the handsome form of the Prince who, no doubt due to Irulan's rather loud and unbecoming remark that had echoed in the silence of the store a moment ago, had diverted his attention to their direction and had found the two of them in the crowd, stood standing in his dark attire with the sunlight streaming in from behind him, like a god. The men who surrounded him were of similar outfit and altogether represented a contrast to the current company of a sea of gowns in every thinkable color. His heart was filled with such joy at the sight of the Prince in his store, that he found the strength and agility to effectively crawl over the counter and sprint to his guests, all the while unable to wipe an almost painful grin from his features.  
  
"This is a dream," thought Irulan. "No, a NIGHTMARE is what it is!" And as the eyes of that damn prince locked with hers once more, she forgot to curtsy together with the rest of the women, who instantly fell to their knees and a moment later, as Irulan and Legolas were still staring at each other, stood up again like a tidal wave.  
  
"An honor to have you here!" yelled Harkey and Legolas' gaze broke as he turned around to face this man who looked like he had escaped from the dungeons of Barad-Dur just moments ago. His eyes swiftly swept the man's form, as he felt the strong surge of pity for this fellow being.  
  
"Sire! An honor indeed!" said a breathless Harkey, bowing clumsily and then looking up with childish enthusiasm.  
  
"The honor is mine," replied Legolas in his elvish kindness and for the first time Irulan realized that he had the most incredible voice. At that realization she rolled her eyes and reminded herself of the annoying fact that the man had actually followed her here (judging from his slight discomfort and the fact that it was unlikely for him to come to such a place for other reasons) for who knows what frustrating reasons.  
  
She deftly climbed over the counter and glided down, then remained standing, seeing that the only entrance and exit to the place was definitely blocked.  
  
"How can a humble man such as me be of any assistance to the Prince?" said Harkey, wiping his hands on his torn shirt.  
  
Legolas smiled a breath-taking smile. "As a matter of fact, I came here to assist another, myself." And as unbelievable as that was, with that, he turned to look at Irulan, who was shifting on her feet, biting her lower lip. As soon as she realized that she was cornered, she did what any other cat would do - she narrowed her eyes and pushed her chin up in defiance.  
  
Legolas, though seemed unaffected by her silent threat and kept smiling at her in a way only elves could. A man to his right, that Irulan instantly recognized, for he was as infamous as the prince himself, being the closest friend and advisor of Legolas and known for his strange ways, stepped forward then. "Where?......"he started and then something that looked suspiciously like a grin spread over his lips as he gave a slight bow with his head, saying "Ah, yes. Aragorn at your service, my lady."  
  
Irulan pursed her lips as the gaze of everyone else in the store seemed to follow the gesture, ending up on her and though she urgently fought it, a blush crept up to her cheeks.  
  
"Lady? Which lady?" boomed Harkey suddenly and broke the trance.  
  
Aragorn ignored him completely as his gaze wandered through the crowd and he softly urged the rest of the audience to please not feel intimidated by their presence and to continue with their tasks at hand. The female throng was probably planning to remain as they were and just simply watch the whole affair in silence, but with such a request -unwillingly- broke into soft conversation and movement, pretending that they were engaged in their own business. They returned to claiming their garments, only this time it was with such grace and order, that Irulan was momentarily distracted, watching them talking with utter politeness to the still bewildered clerks. "Perhaps we DO need men after all," she thought, baffled. She almost flinched when she heard Aragorn addressing her again.  
  
"We had no chance of knowing whether our apology was accepted, Lady..." said Aragorn, very openly expecting her to fill in with the name, but Irulan had no intention of giving him what he wanted. Aragorn was the Chief Advisor of the Prince, the second most powerful person in the kingdom, true, but she hated the grin on his face nevertheless. She glared back at him as the tense silence stretched, until Aragorn finally gave up of acquiring a name and continued with his statement, his face betraying an even wider grin than before: "...so we took the freedom to follow you to make sure that you did not leave us with unfavorable feelings."  
  
Irulan sighed with frustration. She told herself that the reason why she would give in finally was only the irritation with these men along with the fact that she was in a hurry, nothing else. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she had started to feel a little ashamed at her own rudeness in the face of such repeating attempts.  
  
"It is me who should apologize," she said curtly, her eyes sweeping over the company and making sure that none took this as a sign of weakness or defeat, "I left in such a way for I was in a hurry to get here, nothing more. The incident was certainly not worth such anguish on your behalf. It was but a simple and mere accident with no dire outcome for neither party." She barely kept herself from smiling with satisfaction. "There!" she thought, "I can talk like them when I want to!"  
  
Legolas took a step toward her then. "But your dress.."  
  
"Nothing that can not be mended," finished Irulan, more than impatient to end this absurd conversation.  
  
The prince opened his mouth again but it was Harkey's voice that ringed in the store: "Irulan? Ha ha ha! Sire, surely you must be mistaken. She is no lady!" he exclaimed, rumbling with the humor of such a thought.  
  
Irulan threw him a poisonous look, but Harkey only saw the one the Prince gave him and it was enough to cut his laughter momentarily. An expression of utter confusion came over his features and he remained frozen with the inner struggle to grasp the situation.  
  
"Though everyone seems to argue against it," Legolas said very slowly, his tone berating slight impatience and anger, "I see no other than a lady before me." Harkey gulped with the realization of facing not only the Prince, but also and elf, who were known for their dislike of such distinctions. The combination, of course, sent a slight tremble through him as he finally understood his mistake.  
  
"Of course, Sire," he whispered, sweat breaking out on his brow as he gave a slight bow. Perhaps it was the wish to erase the unfavorable impression he might have given to the Prince that pushed the memory of Irulan's purpose in the store into his mind. In any case, a moment later, he beamed with pleasure and turned to Irulan, who stood baffled, watching the scene with squinted eyes. "Irulan!......Er, LADY Irulan....I shall get your dresses immediately." With that, he sprinted away and disappeared in the crowd that stood in silent conversation.  
  
Irulan and Legolas stood looking at each other for another moment and finally she dared to take a step towards him, and then another and ended up at a quite close, and yet comfortable enough distance. Unlike common belief, it was not to step closer to the prince, but to the exit that stood right behind the man in hope of vanishing from the scene as fast as possible once the dresses arrived.  
  
"I am glad to have met you, Lady Irulan," Legolas said gently then and Irulan felt a slight tinge of anger of her name being discovered so easily after all. Nevertheless, she suppressed it and managed to look up quickly to his unwavering gaze. Now that she was so close to him, he seemed even more beautiful, if such a thing was possible. And taller than she would suspect him to be.  
  
"Likewise of course, Sire," she replied, unable to keep the intimidation from her voice.  
  
Legolas stood looking down at this curious woman in front of him. Something about her seemed awfully familiar..and tempting..but no matter how many times he looked her up and down in an attempt to locate the reason for such a feeling, he was failing. He felt drawn to her, and yet there was absolutely no reason why he should be. By the looks of her appearance, she was a commoner, one with whom his mind would most probably never match and even though Legolas never even for an instant thought that to be a low or unfavorable thing, since such a distinction was foreign to him, he still was wise enough to read the obvious. Her fire and temper, along with her pride and obvious carelessness about titles was intriguing to say the least, but they did not by far make her someone capable of an intellectual or interesting conversation. "So what is it about her?" he thought before Aragorn's voice broke his train of thought.  
  
"Lady Irulan, I see," he said, stressing the name and very clearly the amusement he felt concerning this entire happening, "where are you from?"  
  
"Around here," replied Irulan a little nervous and a little angry at such inquisition.  
  
"Meaning?"  
  
"Middle Earth," shot back Irulan, against all her attempts to be kind. Aragorn, though seemed to find that not rude at all. And judging by his looks, along with the fact that he still chose to be a Ranger, even though his title would demand otherwise, he would find very few things rude, indeed.  
  
"Sounds oddly familiar," he said, his green eyes never leaving hers.  
  
Irulan fought to urge to roll her eyes and for once, succeeded.  
  
"I take it you will be attending the ball," Legolas said then and if Irulan did not know better, she would say that he sounded hopeful.  
  
"No," she said flatly and turned to search out Harkey, but he was nowhere to be seen. When she turned again to face the men she was surprised by the look of disbelief on their faces. "These men do not live in Ithilien, for sure!" she thought with a slight pleasure, "How else could they be so blind to the prejudice that has enslaved us all?"  
  
"The dresses are not for me," she said, to break the silence.  
  
"Everyone is invited. Why would you not attend?" Legolas said a moment later.  
  
Irulan would have come up with another answer, but suddenly she felt as if she was granted the perfect chance to give her piece of mind concerning the matter. And only the Valar knew how much of an annoyance it had been to her for the longest time! "No offense, your highness, but I am not interested in such entertainment. To be perfectly honest, I find it a little...foolish," she finished, unable to come up with another adjective.  
  
Legolas' eyebrows gently rose up to that. "None taken. Pray explain, Lady Irulan."  
  
Harkey arrived at that very moment and Irulan absent-mindedly grasped the package from him, eager to conclude the whole thing as swiftly as possible. As it was, if she had turned around, excused herself and walked out then, the tale would have ended very differently. Irulan would have gone back to her home, Legolas would have returned to his own, and the incident would hold no further value for any of the ones involved. But Irulan, more than willing to leave, but equally as adamant to express her feelings about the way things were, decided to grant the prince with her honest opinion and thereby, change the outcome of the story.  
  
"Because, Prince Legolas," she said and for once did not feel nervous to look into his blue gaze, "I think it is very wrong to judge people by such standards. You can most certainly not truly believe that you will find the person to share your life with by dancing your way through hundreds of women! Not to mention that it must be a rather cruel thing to do to yourself," Irulan finished with a softer murmur, glancing around at the mass of females around them, and remembering how wild they had been just moments ago. She gave herself another moment and then said "Good day!" and with that, walked around the company, catching a glance of Boromir on her way out and ignoring the rather unpleasant he shot at her, left the premises with dark satisfaction.  
  
Legolas, Aragorn and Harkey remained rooted behind, standing very close, but each thinking in distinctively different terms.  
  
Harkey gulped in disbelief while Aragorn scratched his chin, as he always did when he felt discomfort, murmuring about 'the damn, formidable and tricky mind of women' while Legolas, lost in his own world, felt some strange feeling slowly spreading in his chest, and almost momentarily said "That makes two of us," to himself, not realizing that his statement would be true in more than one fashion in times to come.  
  
*****  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
  
Why did I choose to make up the Kingdom of Ithilien? It was inevitable and very necessary, as you will see soon enough in the future, for many from other cultures and kingdoms will be joining the story soon and the arguments and differences between them will serve to settle my point concerning some problems that prevail even in our own world today.  
  
Also, as you might have noticed, there is no certain timeline in this story. I have only borrowed enough from Tolkien to build a basis. The rest belongs to a tale that could have taken place anywhere and anytime. 


	4. A Walk and A Talk

Irulan ignored her burning lungs and her aching calves. She just kept running. She ignored how the people flashing by gave her this peculiar look as a woman in total disarray from head to foot dashed by them. All she cared about was the distance she was putting between herself and that......that place where she had met and spoken to........to....... Once again, she moaned in frustration. "Of ALL the people in the kingdom, Boromir had to crash into me. Of ALL the people in the world, Prince Legolas had to follow me. With Aragorn! And the Valar know who else!"  
  
No matter how hard she tried, the pain in her body at the moment was simply not enough to drown the recent memories. "How can ANYONE look so gorgeous?!" she thought in dismay. True, Legolas was an elf and every elf she had seen had looked beautiful beyond words -both female and male-, but none were yet comparable to the Prince of Ithilien, who not only looked divine, but also oddly FELT so. An aura of unexplainable gentleness and wisdom, along with childish curiosity, and yet regal dominance was emanating from him. Irulan was sure that even if she had never seen him before and were placed in a room with many elves, she would still have easily picked him out as the Prince.  
  
She dared a quick glance backwards and was relieved to see that no one was following her this time. Though it seemed absurd that they would, after today's experience, she found it not impossible at all. And why DID he follow her, anyway? Certainly the incident was not worth such an attempt. "Perhaps he had meant to punish me?" she thought suddenly and almost missed a step.  
  
Her accursed inner voice snorted at that. "Sure. He looked very threatening, Irulan."  
  
"Does it make more sense to think that he did all that to repeat his apology?" She shot back silently, as another wave of warmness hit her at the thought and sent those damn butterflies in her stomach flying off, again.  
  
"One can not expect a creature such as yourself to understand the ways of the elves and especially the ways of an elf like Prince Legolas."  
  
Irulan took a deep breath as she spotted the cart in the distance, with Chemarit sitting on top of it. "In any case, I hope he'll forget this incident and me as soon as possible," she murmured to herself.  
  
"I am sure he will. What is there to remember?" said her amused alter ego. And for the strangest reason, that sent a lighting of distant pain through her, though Irulan carefully avoided thinking why that was, as she took the last steps and hastily climbed on the cart, next to Chemarit.  
  
"Chemarit, let's go! Now!" she yelled out of breath.  
  
Chemarit gave her a long sidelong glance, then turned around to look in the direction she had appeared from, and finally -under Irulan's extremely impatient and sour gaze- took all the time in the world to grasp the reigns, position himself and put the cart into motion.  
  
"Faster!" Irulan whined in contempt, shifting with impatience.  
  
"Irulan, what the heck is going on?"  
  
"Nothing!" she croaked instantly and rigidly looked ahead as they passed other carts entering the city walls.  
  
"Indeed!" he grumbled and gave her appearance another look while he puffed on his pipe. "You look like you ran into the Prince himself, Irulan!"  
  
This made her take a sharp breath and sit even more rigidly, her face slowly embedding itself in a deeper red than Chemarit had ever seen before. For once, true surprise hit him and while Irulan never glanced in his direction, not moving a hair, he slowly took out his pipe and took a long look at her. "Well.......is he still alive?" he said finally.  
  
"Mind your own business!" she shot back and the fury in her eyes was an incarnation of the flames in Mount Doom.  
  
Chemarit began to chuckle then and shaking his head, looked ahead again.  
  
"Oh relax, woman," he laughed softly. "It's not like you have insulted him or anything!"  
  
Irulan let out a long, loud wail then and even Chemarit, who NEVER felt afraid, jumped up at the unusual sound that was a mixture of a battle cry, a furious objection and a curse to Fate herself.  
  
"You insulted the PRINCE?!" he said with disbelief, looking at her little form, shaking with tears of frustration and anger. "Irulan.....how on earth.......you were gone only an hour, woman, and you turned the whole kingdom upside down??!!"  
  
Irulan refused to reply him. She just kept crying, relieving herself from the emotions that seemed to be stuck inside her, refusing to get out.  
  
Overcoming the initial shock and resuming his former cool attitude, Chemarit snickered softly. "Well don't think about it.......It's not like he knows who you are."  
  
The forest surrounding Ithilien shook with such a cry that even the orcs lying in ambush somewhere in the deeper regions heard it and feared the creature who could utter such a sound.  
  
*******  
  
"Well, are you happy now?" grunted Aragorn as they strode to their initial destination - the northern gates of the city.  
  
"Very," was Legolas' cool reply. "Now there is another who agrees that this idea of yours will be the end of me."  
  
"Legolas......." grunted Aragorn with dismay.  
  
"I don't know why we should count HER opinion," cut in Boromir, who was walking behind them.  
  
"It is a good and honest opinion, that's why," replied Legolas flatly.  
  
"Well it is too late in any case. I don't see why you would want to torture yourself further by such ideas. Just live through it, in Uroth's name!" said Aragorn.  
  
"At least now I know that I am not the only sane one in my kingdom!" hissed the elf.  
  
"Since when do we care about what orcs think?" said Boromir with a poisonous voice. When Legolas turned to give him one of those dangerous looks, he reluctantly and very unwillingly added "I mean........LADIES........"  
  
"I can see that my position is no concern of any of yours," the Prince continued with suppressed distaste. "Since it is only MY head on the line here. If you have forgotten how that tailor shop looked when we first stepped in, I will not remind you any further, for it may haunt you in your nightmares!"  
  
Eomer, who was walking alongside Boromir, laughed at that remark and spoke for the first time: "I will not lie. Not ever since the last battle with the Orcs on the Hill of Sunset, have I felt such fear on the sight!"  
  
Aragorn gave the younger man a withering look, which Eomer -as usual- playfully ignored.  
  
"I am doomed!" hissed Legolas, his long strides matching his mood. "Worse, the representative of every kingdom will be there to see me being eaten alive, starting with you-know-who!"  
  
The others, having spotted the object of the conversation bit their tongues as the party arrived to the awaiting elves. Legolas emptied his face of any expression and stepped up the blonde elf, who was standing a little apart and with a cool demeanor which Legolas had come to dislike so much.  
  
"It is an honor to have you here," the Prince of Ithilien said softly, bowing first, then holding out his hand as the other elf gracefully mimicked him and grabbed his forearm at the same time.  
  
For a tense moment none spoke, while blue eyes bore into blue and the two Eldar remained fixed and expressionless, almost like mirror images of each other's ethereal beauty. Finally the guest spoke up and it was no surprise that his voice was as beautiful as Legolas', though carrying a tone of superiority and sarcasm that the other lacked.  
  
"It is an honor to come. Such........unique........customs," -at that, a flash of fury passed through Legolas' eyes, but it was too quick to be noticed even by the elf in front of him, "....are always interesting to observe, Prince of Ithilien," said Haldir, Lord of the Lothlorien elves.  
  
******  
  
"I think Legolas will personally behead us when this is over," whispered Boromir, even though the distance between the rest of the party and the two elven lords was great.  
  
Aragorn kept his eyes on the leading pair. "I bet Lord Haldir came early so that he would have enough time to tease and torture Legolas further on the issue," he whispered back.  
  
"Not that I don't wish to participate, but perhaps this Ball WAS a bad idea," Eomer joined from Aragorn's other side. When both Boromir and Aragorn slowly turned around and bore their eyes into him, he shrugged softly and continued: "Let's face it. Legolas' duty is difficult as it is. All the other kingdoms are either jealous of him, or plainly look down on him, as the elf who rules men. If the slightest thing goes wrong on the Ball, it will only serve as an excuse for further criticism."  
  
The other two men turned around and glanced ahead once more. What was there to say to a true statement? Being the Prince of Ithilien was a very challenging task. Such a powerful kingdom was resented by many and resentment was often expressed in other words and forms. Aragorn had no doubt that many representatives would attend more for the purpose of finding something to talk and complain about, rather than the for the sake of the festivities themselves. "Then we will simply have to make sure that nothing goes wrong," he said finally.  
  
At that, Boromir snorted softly. "Such a thing is hard to achieve. I mean, even today, out of the blue, A LOT of things went wrong." The distaste in his voice was hard to miss.  
  
Eomer grinned at the memory. "I was meaning to ask you, First Captain, what exactly was distracting you so much that you ran into the woman, to begin with?"  
  
Boromir clenched his jaws and clasped his hands behind his back. It was a tragedy that he had such weakness for beautiful women. And there had been simply too many around of them lately not to be distracted. "I am sure that it was something that has not escaped YOUR attention either, Second Captain," was the sheepish reply. After a moment's silence, he added darkly: "It is a wonder how many faces the fairer gender can have. And it certainly was a curse to find the sole demon amongst all those angels, and run into HER."  
  
Aragorn joined Eomer in his grinning, then. "It is also a wonder how opinions can differ, Captain. For what you found repulsive, Legolas seemed to have found quite attractive."  
  
Boromir's head jerked up at that. "Attractive?!" he said a trifle too loud and hastily lowering his tone, continued: "Are you mad? I am sure that Prince Legolas has better taste than that."  
  
"Who said that his taste was not good?"  
  
"Either that or he is blind! You have seen her yourself! Honestly, if asked to categorize, I would rather place her in the section of creatures from Mordor than any other race in Middle Earth."  
  
Eomer chuckled. "I thought she was......interesting, actually."  
  
Boromir diverted his disbelieving looks to him and just kept staring.  
  
"Come on Boromir," nudged Aragorn, "you have to admit that she was at least original!"  
  
"Too original, perhaps," the Captain dryly and looked away with distaste. "However, my claim remains. The Prince was as kind as he always is. I refuse to believe that there was more to the story."  
  
"Well......." began Aragorn and tortured the other two men by stretching the silence a little further before he continued: "I will not say that I know Legolas better than anyone else. Even though I am close to him, he is still an elf and I, a human. I will never understand his mind completely. Yet, we are both men and I reckon it was easy enough to see that Legolas acted today out of more than pure kindness."  
  
"How much more?" Eomer asked with intrigue.  
  
"Quite some more."  
  
"Hah!" said Boromir, believing the idea of ANYONE finding that orc of a woman likeable in any way, simply too ridiculous to be conversed upon.  
  
"Well, I have to admit that he has never followed anyone before, like that," whispered the Second Captain, his eyes falling on the figure of the Prince again.  
  
Aragorn sighed and smiled an evil smile. "Too bad she is not coming to the Ball."  
  
"Too bad?!" boomed Boromir's fervent voice. "It is a blessing from the Valar! For if she shows up, I am certain that you can kiss your plan of 'not letting anything go wrong' goodbye, Aragorn."  
  
Aragorn let a short silence settle before he continued. "That may be true. However, gentlemen, what we believe is of little importance. The question is, even if she caused a havoc in the middle of the palace, would Legolas think so, or not?" By the silence of the other men, he knew that he had succeeded in planting the seeds of doubt into their minds.  
  
"I reckon he would not," said Eomer softly a while later. "As a matter of fact, judging from his behavior today, she might be the only person he would not mind having on that Ball. Or yet better said, if she would show up, I am certain that the Prince would be in a pretty......improved......mood and stop fretting about the whole thing."  
  
Aragorn smiled with satisfaction, but remained silent, not wishing to be too obvious in his steering.  
  
After a long silence, during which the three men respectfully kept the distance between themselves and the pair of elves, who were still walking through the enormous gardens of the palace and discussing recent political events, Boromir gave such a frustrated sigh, that both Aragorn and Eomer unwillingly glanced at his direction. "Where does this.......this..........whatever her name is-"  
  
"Irulan," said Aragorn swiftly.  
  
"-this Irulan woman live?" Boromir finished, thinking that he would rather eat worms than doing this, but knowing that Aragorn -as always- made sense.  
  
"I do not know. But that Harkey fellow probably does," the Ranger said smoothly, his face betraying no emotion.  
  
All three remained silent after that, now that everything that needed saying between them, was said. 


	5. A Spell is Woven

Quick Note: In the original version of Cinderella the Ball went on for three nights. I decided to stay true to that version. Gives me more to explore.  
  
***********  
  
"Irulan, you are distracted! Has meeting the Prince changed you?" Eowyn drawled with a grin as Irulan barely ducked to escape her swinging long stick.  
  
She pursed her lips and refused to look her friend in the eye. Instead, she silently cursed Chemarit for the nth time for having such a big mouth and telling Eowyn who, no doubt, was planning to torture her for all eternity with this piece of information.  
  
She took two steps to the right and then charged with her own stick held out before her, but Eowyn was too quick and easily stepped around, prodding Irulan in the behind and laughing a beautiful laugh. "I just impaled your behind, woman!" she said, her voice ringing in the clear air of the forest.  
  
Irulan threw away her own stick and stomped towards the tree Chemarit was lying underneath.  
  
"You have betrayed me for the last time, you old fool!" she hissed.  
  
Chemarit barely glanced at her from underneath hooded eyes. He was lying in the shadow of the tree, his hands pillowed under his head. "I think you are exaggerating, Irulan," he said with a calm voice. "Eowyn would have heard anyway. She hears everything, you know that. I think, on your behalf, it was better for her to hear it from me, instead of some distorted version of it."  
  
Irulan bit her lower lip and looked away with frustration. "How much more distorted can the damn story be in the first place?!" she said with open contempt. "It is horrible the way it is!"  
  
"I can think of worse adaptations," was the old man's amused reply.  
  
Irulan gave him a frosty look. "Spare me!"  
  
At that moment Eowyn's voice thundered right behind her. "Do you think they will come for you, Irulan?"  
  
"Oh yes. I am certain that they will come for my head!" was the other girl's reply as she threw herself on the grass next to Chemarit.  
  
"I personally believe the Prince to be very impressed by you," the man said with a dreamy voice.  
  
"What?!" boomed Irulan. "Are you mad? This is real life, Chemarit. Your romance novels are pure FICTION! In real life, people receive death punishment for half of what I have said!"  
  
"Still, you can not deny that he followed you, now, can you?" grinned Eowyn sitting down as well. She wriggled her eyebrows to make her point.  
  
"Doesn't mean anything!" Irulan shot back and began to rip grass.  
  
"Does too! Who ever heard of the Prince running after a woman?"  
  
"He was not running after me, damn it!"  
  
"He must have been. Otherwise he would have lost you!"  
  
"Eowyn, stop it already! While you and Chemarit are writing non-existing stories on the spot, I am fearing for my very life here!"  
  
"For the last time, stop exaggerating, Irulan! I can imagine the royal circle having better things to do than hunting down a delirious woman."  
  
"I'm telling you, I can't help shivering every time I remember the evil look that Captain Boromir gave me!"  
  
"Sooooo...do you also shiver when you remember the look the Prince gave you?" Eowyn said in amusement.  
  
"For the very last time," began Irulan's shrill voice as Chemarit broke in:  
  
"Enough! Are you two finished with your sword practice yet?"  
  
Irulan snorted at his remark. The three of them would come to this particular spot every time they found the chance to (which was lately quite often, since both Irulan's household and Eowyn's mistress were busy with the preparations for the Ball) and bash sticks. And those were the only words Irulan would dare to describe it, nothing more - even though both Chemarit and Eowyn insisted in using the term "sword practice".  
  
"Irulan is unable to focus today, Chemarit," chirped Eowyn. The other girl just rolled her eyes and continued to rip grass. A silence settled between them as the background voices of insects and birds, along with the rustling leaves became more prominent and ever so slowly pulled the three into relaxation. So it was even more disturbing when Eowyn finally spoke up, saying "I think you should go to the Ball."  
  
Irulan's head very slowly turned towards her and her brown eyes fixed the blue ones. "What?!" she said with a low growl.  
  
"The Ball," said Eowyn again, seemingly unaffected, "I think you should go."  
  
Irulan closed her eyes and decided to count till 10. Then opened them and, taking a deep breath, managed to say "Eowyn, nobody gives a damn about what you think!"  
  
"Why not go?" the blonde girl continued, ignoring her comment completely. "Then you would know for sure."  
  
"Know what, Eowyn?" growled Irulan.  
  
"If he really likes you or not."  
  
"That's it!" Irulan shot and jumped to her feet. "I've had it with the both of you! I think I want to remain alone for the rest of the day!" With that, she walked away in long strides, soon disappearing in the canopy of dense trees.  
  
"I still think she should go," Eowyn said, her tone as normal as ever.  
  
"So do I. But, knowing her, she would rather marry me than do that," Chemarit said from his position. Both chuckled at that remark.  
  
***  
  
Irulan walked for a long time, not knowing if her breathlessness was due to her fury or her rather fast pace. The forest stretched around her in a perfect incarnation of peace and beauty, but her restless heart refused to calm down. Dreadful scenarios of soldiers coming to drag her away to the dungeons of the palace where she would remain till the final days of her life, flickered in her mind. What if her stepmother heard? Her heart missed a beat at the idea. Although Irulan had been punished by her in every thinkable fashion, she was absolutely sure that for this, Ingmar would invent a new and original punishment that would wipe the memory of all the former ones away.  
  
With such dark thoughts, she walked on and finally arrived by a small stream of water that she recognized to be one of the streams closer to the palace - even though the distance was still great. She lifted her head and saw some of the taller towers reaching up to the clear blue sky. She knew that the looks of the towers was misguiding. Even though they seemed close, they were yet very far away, for the towers, along with the rest of the palace, were unbelievably grand in scale and more befitting the description of an independent city than a mere building. Unfortunately the view only brought back the memories of the Prince once more and she almost winced with frustration.  
  
The timing could not have been any better, as someone suddenly said "Have you lost your way?" from behind her. At the sound, Irulan jumped up with fear, reeling around instantly in panic, hundreds of things flying through her head as to whom she could possibly meet in such a deserted part of the forest.  
  
The sight of the Prince before her did not exactly make her feel better, to say the least.  
  
They stared each other with shock (Irulan's much more pronounced and Legolas' evident, but rather well-balanced compared to hers) and then both spoke simultaneously, saying "YOU!"  
  
Another silence followed, during which the expression melted into confusion on both faces, and then as Irulan's became one of anxiety and fear, the Prince's features betrayed amusement and delight.  
  
"What are you doing here?!" said Irulan a little too loud, for she seemed to have lost control over her vocal cords momentarily.  
  
Legolas smiled deftly. If he were a human, he would have thought of saying that it was his forest to do whatever he pleased with it, but such an answer never occurred to his elven mind. Instead, he said "Just walking...and training. To ease my mind." He held up the bow in his hand to make his point.  
  
"Oh," Irulan said with a faint voice, then swiftly looked him up and down. Indeed, he seemed to be clad in a rather casual attire - something that resembled an outfit hunters would wear. The green and brown tones gave him a softer look, but took nothing from his beauty.  
  
As he let her inspect him, Legolas felt a sudden elation of having met Irulan there and then. He had stormed out of the palace in well hidden anger at Haldir's unbearable comments and teasing, then had rejected the wish of his assistants to accompany him with such fury that they had not dared to insist. This whole issue of the Ball was becoming a very tiresome and stressful event. And to think that there would be three of them! The only reason why Legolas did not shudder then was because he was an elf and they -if ever- rarely shuddered.  
  
"Well...with your permission, your Highness," Irulan said suddenly and turned around to walk away.  
  
He quickly snapped out of his trance, then. "Wait!" he said and she froze in mid-step. "What are YOU doing in this region of the forest, Lady Irulan?" he added more gently, for she seemed so tense again.  
  
"Nothing," was her slightly anxious reply. "Just walking, that's all."  
  
Legolas took a step towards her. "It is not wise to walk alone here. It can be dangerous."  
  
"I walk here habitually," she said with confusion, "nothing has happened yet."  
  
'I should come out here more often,' Legolas thought suddenly. Instead, he said "Nevertheless, something might happen. You could come across some...rather discomforting...men. Or -I hate to scare you but- orcs. Even giant spiders have been spotted here!" That had happened only once and that, hundreds of years ago, during a forest fire when the spiders had been forced to run from the deeper and darker parts of the woods, but technically, it was true. He stopped to glance if he had scared her beyond good measure, and was instantly surprised by her unimpressed conduct.  
  
"I fear none of those things," she said flatly. A moment later though, added with a lower voice "Er...giant spiders?"  
  
Legolas nodded solemnly. "It is no place for a lady," he insisted and took another step towards her, hoping that she would not notice.  
  
Irulan did notice, however, on some unconscious level and took a step back to keep the distance between them. "I told you before, I am no lady,"  
  
Legolas cocked his head and planted the bow before him on the soft forest floor, holding it with both hands. "Why do you say that?"  
  
A def shrug followed. "I know what I am and what I am not. And I certainly am no lady."  
  
"Perhaps you don't look at yourself from the right angle," the elf said softly and his blue gaze made Irulan very uneasy. Even though he was the Prince and an elf and certainly the most trustable man in Middle Earth, suddenly she felt intimidated by being alone with him in the middle of the forest.  
  
"I need to go. Good day, Sire," she tried again and turned around, although such a move to a Prince was certainly very rude.  
  
"I shall walk with you," rang hid determined voice as Legolas suddenly appeared right beside her.  
  
Irulan was caught so unguarded by that swift movement, she almost fell into the stream. After gulping down a scream, she managed to talk again. "What?! NO!" At Legolas' rather shocked expression, she hastily continued "I mean...no need, Highness. It is all right, really."  
  
"It is not," Legolas said slowly but firmly, and refused to move back to give her a comfortable private circle. In an unexplainable way, it felt good to be close to her.  
  
"You probably have so much more important things to..." Irulan began with a nervous laugh.  
  
"I do not," the Prince cut in smoothly and kept looking at her with a blank expression. She took a deep breath.  
  
Her brain was going through overload and not coming up with any useful solutions to the case. "But I -"  
  
"Why is my presence of such discomfort to you, Lady Irulan?" he said suddenly.  
  
"Discomfort?!" was her shocked response, her eyes widening with the embarassment of being so obvious. A moment later Irulan smoothed her skirts and continued with a calmer voice. "You must be mistaken." She quickly glanced up at him to see the effect of her words, but his elven expression proved to be impossible to read.  
  
"Am I?" was the cool reply. "If so, you would not mind me joining you, then?"  
  
Irulan swallowed hard. They stood like that for a while, each stubbornly refusing to step back. Then finally, finding no way out of her misery, she mumbled "I guess I wouldn't," and turned to walk away, noticing with distaste that Legolas was keeping pace with her.  
  
Neither spoke for a while and Irulan went through a silent and painful debate as to where she should walk. She did not want to walk in the direction of her home, since the Prince would not take his leave before and end up knowing where she resided. But she dared not walk further deep into the forest either, since that would only make things worse. For one thing, as the hour got later, he would insist to walk her to her house for sure! She was unconsciously biting her nails with frustration when Legolas spoke up again. "Have you changed your mind about the Ball?"  
  
Irulan was amazed that he actually remembered her answer at all. "No," was her quiet response.  
  
Legolas was surprised to feel disappointed. "Why won't you come?" he said, his mind occupied as to why he felt so strongly about this matter.  
  
"I told you before, Prince."  
  
"Yes you did." His expression turned grave and Irulan suddenly thought that perhaps it was a bad idea to remind him of her former rudeness at this point. So it was very shocking to hear his next words: "And I am grateful for it. Allow me to say that I admire your honesty, Lady Irulan."  
  
Irulan stared at him for a long moment. "You are not...angry...with me?"  
  
"Angry?" rang Legolas' shocked voice. "Not at all! As a matter of fact, I was pleased to hear that someone finally agrees with me on the matter." He felt so comfortable with Irulan, it did not occur to him that a declaration like that on his behalf was actually rather unbefitting.  
  
It was Irulan's turn to be shocked. "You AGREE with me?"  
  
Legolas nodded rather seriously, his gaze locked to the distance. Then he sighed and to Irulan, the sigh seemed to be loaded with tired sadness. "The things I have to go through!" was the almost inaudible hiss that followed. "And that is why precisely," he continued a moment later with a lighter expression, "I wish you could come. Please do not take my words the wrong way when I say that I feel as if I have found an...ally in you, Lady Irulan."  
  
Irulan laughed nervously for the sake of not being glued down by his incredible eyes like some stupid fly. "Please! I am about to BEG you to not call me that."  
  
Legolas smiled softly. "What would you have me call you, then?"  
  
"Just Irulan is much better."  
  
"I would like that," he said slowly and marveled at his own boldness. He cast a sidelong glance at her and Irulan, too, seemed to be quite disturbed. Nevertheless, he felt unable to stop himself from further boldness. "Then it is only fair to ask for similar treatment?"  
  
She could not help to look up at that. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I would prefer you to address me by my name - at least when we are in each other's company," Legolas said and mentally crossed his fingers. At the very same time, he felt surprised again to find himself so anxious over such a little matter.  
  
Irulan gasped audibly. "I could not!" she said with a strong voice.  
  
"Why not?" was his rather frustrated reply.  
  
"Well...you...you are...the PRINCE, your Highness!"  
  
Legolas almost groaned. "It seemed of no importance to you before," he groaned, but instantly realized that he had made a mistake. He had meant it to be a compliment, but Irulan was rather intimidated and blushed.  
  
"I...I..." she stammered, but found herself incapable of continuing.  
  
"Forgive me," cut in Legolas hastily, "I did not mean to...I mean..." Why was it so difficult to talk around her?! "I meant that as a praise," he said finally and gave her only a moment before he continued "Like I said, I find your honesty admirable. It is disturbing to discover my title to be an obstacle between me and others. I thought it very pleasant that it was not so with you."  
  
Irulan gave him a long, dubious look. He seemed honest enough. Though such a thing seemed rather absurd. Nevertheless, calling him by his name was simply too daring an action - even for Irulan! "I can't," she whispered with unease. "Please, do not ask it of me." Legolas looked back at her and found himself at a loss of words. Any other lady in his kingdom would have accepted too gladly. He never thought that the unexpected could feel this refreshing. "But," the woman said finally, afraid that she had offended him in some way, "I'll try not to use your title too often."  
  
Legolas smiled. "Thank you," was his simple but sincere reply. The moment of discomfort pushed him to talk further. "Perhaps you can attend the second...or the third Ball?" He was aware that it was most unbecoming of him to insist so and pursue her in the matter, but could not keep himself from doing it anyway. The strangest part was that he rather ENJOYED the pursuit. The more she rejected him, she more tempting he found her.  
  
Irulan almost grinned at his stubbornness. Then she reminded herself that this was the Prince - not some old friend, though he felt much closer than a royalty she had met just days ago. "I don't think so. Besides, I might be gone by then," she said and tossed her hair over her shoulder.  
  
"Gone? Where?" whispered Legolas and unconsciously slowed in his tracks.  
  
She turned to face him as he completely stopped and the expression on his face would have been clear disappointment on another, but on the Prince...'Probably it's just surprise,' she thought. She shrugged before she answered. "Anywhere. I am planning to leave." Irulan was aware that she had been 'planning' to leave for at least ten years now, but feeling the need to show off a little.  
  
The elf approached her without diverting his gaze. "Anywhere? But why?"  
  
Irulan cocked her head and looked up to the upper branches of the trees, gently swaying in the summer breeze. "I don't think you would understand. But...to be free," she said, glancing to see what that evoked in him.  
  
Legolas took another step towards her, stubbornly trying to close the distance between them. Irulan, thankfully, did not realize it this time. "Do you feel...imprisoned?"  
  
"To say the least," the woman said with a sigh of frustration. A wonderful smile lit up his features then. Irulan felt incapable of stopping herself from smiling back. And seeing her smile for the first time took his breath away. He found it unbelievable for her to have such an effect on him, and yet, with a life bestowed with so few wonders, it was like a blessing. "Why do you smile so?"  
  
" Because I have just discovered that we have something else in common," he said slowly. "I, too, feel imprisoned at times."  
  
"You?" was her astonished response. "But you are...-" deciding against using his title, she hastily retraced her words. "You rule Ithilien!"  
  
"Precisely," was the elf's dry reply. When the confusion on her face did not lift, he continued: "My position has far more limitations than most can imagine, Irulan." He stopped for a moment, realizing that he had spoken her name alone for the first time and very much enjoyed it, then resumed his speech. "Contrary to common belief, I find myself often being in envy of the common man." He began to walk again and Irulan kept pace. "As Prince, I have responsibilities. Things that I can not postpone or push over on someone else's shoulders. Things I can not evade or reject. Things that simply come with this position. I am far from free."  
  
Irulan thought about his words. Though she could not imagine herself in his status and place, his words made perfect sense. Interesting how she had never thought of it like this, before. She had always believed people to be more free and happy the higher their status was or the more they owned. But looking at the Prince now, she understood that such things, on the contrary, only added to the shackles. 'I guess you are only truly free when you have nothing to lose,' she thought.  
  
"Well I would tell you to follow my example...but I fear that it would be VERY bad advice," she grinned to lighten up the mood. Legolas looked at her for a moment and then broke into soft laughter. Irulan laughed along with him as she realized that she could not remember feeling such at ease and yet so excited in any other company, before. 'Most certainly because he is an elf,' she told herself stubbornly. They were, after all, heavenly creatures. "Lord Aragorn would probably have my head," she growled and Legolas smirked at that. Only when he did it, it looked far too beautiful to be called a mere smirk.  
  
"Probably mine too," he sighed and listened to Irulan's chuckle with pleasure. "But..." began the Prince a moment later, becoming serious again, "...even if I left, I know that it would not bring me happiness."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"On my behalf," said Legolas, gazing into the distance, "I have long ago discovered that it is not a freedom of that sort that I seek, but another to share that freedom with. Or even to share the imprisonment, for that matter."  
  
Irulan dared not break his daze as he remained like that for many minutes, even though the sadness she believed to sense emanating from him almost unbearable. A long time later Legolas turned to look down at her and the misty glaze in his eyes, along with the unusual tone of this voice was evidence enough that he was speaking from the deepest corners of his heart. "Loneliness is such a curse, Irulan," he said as the late afternoon sun ran down his cheeks like gold, making him look of dream-like quality. "It takes the pleasure out of everything else."  
  
She found no answer. Who was she to argue with such a creature? A feeling of utter misery overcame her then and she found herself in a state she could only describe as intoxication. Reality faded around her and as the world seemed to shrink back into a mere vision in her mind, a distinctive melancholy swept over her heart. Not knowing what else to do and feeling like it was perfectly right to do so, she approached him and softly lay her hand on his forearm. So lost was she in her thoughts, she did not see his muscles flinch slightly at her gesture. He looked down at her hand and then back up into her eyes and though he did not know it to be so, something in him changed forever with that contact. "Are you really that alone?" Irulan said quietly, thinking that she might be dreaming all this - such an ethereal vision it was.  
  
Legolas did not answer for a very long time and remained exactly as he was, afraid that she would wake up from her trance and walk away again. "I do not know," he whispered finally, his eyes slowly taking in her facial features as she stood closest to him she ever had. Irulan was not a very beautiful girl by physical standards, and yet at that moment, he was absolutely certain that his eyes had not seen anything more fascinating. "It is my hope that I am not. That there is someone who would not let it be so."  
  
She smiled the ghost of a smile then, and once again the elf could only marvel at how she seemed to glow when she smiled. "I believe so, too."  
  
"You do?" was the only reply he could come up with in his stupefied state.  
  
Irulan opened her mouth to reply, but instantly a horn rang in the distance, sending an echo through the forest. She jumped up at the unexpected sound and snatching back her hand, moved several steps away, looking anxiously around. Legolas closed his eyes and silently cursed his fate. Along with the company of those horrible men he was stuck with. He recognized the signal immediately of course. His wardens were signaling for the Prince to return for who knows what sort of ridiculous matter that required his attention! He gazed at Irulan and realized with painful regret that the moment was lost.  
  
"What is that? Are we being invaded? Is this the enemy?!" she whispered with widened eyes.  
  
"Something like that," grunted Legolas with distaste. Then realizing her fear, added with a louder tone "Nay. They are calling me back to the palace. It is the sound of my duties."  
  
Irulan stared at him, her hand on her heart. At his serious expression she visibly relaxed, but confusion prevailed on her features. "They call you in like that?" Legolas only nodded with irritation. "Is it not your right to have some time for yourself only?"  
  
He sighed. "I'm afraid I am not blessed with such luxury."  
  
Irulan blinked in surprise. She did not realize that in a matter of hours she had changed from fearing the Prince to liking him, and even further, to feeling a strong sympathy for him. And to think of Aragorn and Boromir sitting somewhere in that palace, calling this poor creature in for further work! "Why do you allow such treatment of yourself?" she hissed with anger.  
  
Legolas looked up at her tone. "I do not have a choice," he said slowly, surprised by her attitude.  
  
"The hell you don't!" Irulan yelped. Then remembering her current company, had the decency to feel ashamed and continued in a softer tone: "Unless it is a matter of life and death, no one can call you in like a mother calling in her child from the streets! What is their job if not filling your absence, anyway? Walking around with you?"  
  
The man was taken aback by her words and her change of tone that spoke of heated fury. And the funny part was, he actually found reason in them! Two emotions surged through him at that moment, which were so intertwined that it took his mind several hours to separate and analyze them and the task was only achieved much later in the day, when he lay in his bed and returned to the moment, re-living each minute he had spent with Irulan.  
  
One of the emotions was a masculine pride that made him stiffen with intensity. For the first time in his life, he was having such splendid time in the company of a woman and just when everything was perfection itself, the useless men around him (Irulan was definitely right about that part) dared to call him in like some farm animal sent out grazing in the early hours of the day! And the woman whose opinion of him (for some strange reason) mattered most, was there to witness it! He felt belittled, to say the least! Fury flamed in his heart and Legolas set his jaw with the determination of NEVER letting that happen again.  
  
The other emotion was almost on the opposite side of the scale with the softness and joy it implied. There was no mistaking that Irulan's tone of voice and body language expressed a certain concern. If he dared to make bold assumptions, he would say that a harsh protectiveness was emanating from her and its effect drowned even the intense emotions that had surged through him moments ago with her touch.  
  
He blinked and returned to the present, to find a very anxious Irulan biting her fingernails and looking at him with alarm. "Have I crossed the line?" she said slowly and gulped audibly.  
  
Still wrestling with dangerous emotions and thoughts, the Prince finally managed to smile. "Of course not. I..." he began, and then the accursed horn sounded again and his expression hardened beyond words. "I have to go," he finished briskly, afraid to curse out loud in his anger.  
  
"Well...yes. Goodbye, I guess," Irulan replied with slight unease.  
  
"I should walk you home..."  
  
"Oh no! It is not too far now," she lied smoothly, instantly thanking her luck, "And you should not linger any longer. Maybe it is important."  
  
"It better be," murmured Legolas with ferocity.  
  
"Perhaps I will see you again?" he said then, not knowing what else to say in his jumbled state of mind.  
  
"Perhaps," Irulan said and blessed him with one last smile. He smiled back and turned around to jog in the direction of the palace, feeling happier than he had felt in a very, very long time and having absolutely no clue as to how that was possible.  
  
*** 


	6. Long Live Revolution!

Dear beloved readers,  
  
How wonderful that you have found amusement and pleasure in this new and rather distorted version of both Cinderella and Middle Earth! I am glad that we can travel on with unclouded eyes and minds!  
  
Fanfiction.net is going crazy again. This is the sixth chapter, but I am aware that the site indicates the story to have seven. Ignore it - I myself can not locate that chapter and therefore, can not fix the problem. Also, ff.net is there one day and gone another - so sometimes I have to wait for hours to update.  
  
I have no idea how long this one will be, but you know me - it takes me ages to make a small point and I HATE to rush. It makes the characters seem so flat! I have some major points in the story that I have thought and worked out before, but as with the Irulans, the rest is a mystery to me, too. So..it is an adventure for all of us!  
  
Needless to say that I am more than flattered by your kind words. I treasure each review and the precious time you take to write to me. So feel free to do that anytime and with any idea!  
  
Dear darkcherry, I know that I am missing the accents on the names, but not only does it seem easier (I know what you are thinking - how hard can that be, no?), also I do not trust this crazy fanfiction.net with such things. It does crazy things to my text as it is. But thank you for pointing it out. No, really - it gave me the chance to explain.  
  
********************  
  
All three men looked up when Legolas walked with long strides into the large room that was lighted by the several fireplaces lining the walls. They approached him and met him halfway, instantly noticing the bright expression on his eyes and the deft smile that adorned his lips instead of his usual, solemn appearance.  
  
Upon meeting in the middle of the room with slight headshakes, Aragorn fell back to the Prince's side and started to walk with him towards the halls that led to the reception room of the palace. Boromir and Eomer once again took their positions behind them.  
  
"What requires my immediate attention, Aragorn?" Legolas said with a light voice, distantly feeling the walls of the castle once again pressing down o him, but his mood refusing to change for the worse.  
  
"Other representatives have arrived," the Ranger said with a mild voice. "Lord Elrond amongst them."  
  
Legolas glanced at him briefly before he continued with a expressionless voice again: "You called me in for this?"  
  
"Well.......yes," was the confused reply. Aragorn would always call Legolas in for similar reasons or even ones with lesser importance. The Prince had never inquired so before.  
  
Legolas felt the instant stab of fury in him. 'A matter of life and death indeed!' he thought bitterly, but not letting it get any further, shoved the event aside to deal with later. For now, he just felt joyful since a very, very long time and he had no intentions of letting anyone ruin that - although the crowd that was building up in the castle was becoming more dangerous by the day.  
  
They turned a corner and continued in silence down the dimly lit corridors until, after yet another corner, the large winged doors of the reception room sprang into view. Recognizing them, the guards immediately saluted and stepped aside, pulling the doors open along the way.  
  
Legolas and his company entered the large room with incredibly high ceilings. This room, too, was well lit by now and the warmness built up inside indicated that it was done so a while ago. Beautiful tapestries hung from the stone ceilings, telling stories about the history and heroes of Ithilien, the craftsmanship easily impressing even the most grumpy of visitors.  
  
Legolas scanned the room and immediately picked out Lord Elrond and his daughter Arwen who, with the opening of the doors, had turned to face him. He meant to clear his face of any expression, as he did with every reception or formal occasion, however, for the first time, found it impossible to do so. Ever since he had returned from the woods, an energy like no other was turning and churning in him. He felt elated - thrown out of reality. Though he was in the middle of the reception room with another long string of duties waiting for him, his mind and his heart was simply not in it. Still that curious smile on his face, he moved towards the Lord of the Rivendell elves.  
  
"Lord Elrond! It has been too long," he said with a musical tone and Elrond cocked an eyebrow at him. He looked Legolas up and down with that intimidating manner of his, but Legolas -who typically hated to be inspected so- tonight found it only amusing and waited patiently the other elf to finish his task.  
  
"Has it been that long, really?" Elrond said finally and locked eyes with Legolas once more, gently binding his hands in front of him with a graceful swish of his long and elegant garments. "Time seems to fly by differently to me of late, Lord of Ithilien."  
  
The Prince clasped his hands behind him and -still smiling!- cocked his head. "How so, my lord?"  
  
Elrond waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I have been spending so many hours in my library, reading about the history of Middle Earth, lately, I almost suspect that part of my spirit has decided to drift off into those days."  
  
"Ah," said the blonde elf then, thinking of how Irulan had looked under the rich light of the sun instead of any matter that concerned Elrond, "in that case, it is most fortunate that you could come. These festivities should change that."  
  
"On my behalf, I certainly hope so!" sounded a deep and soft female voice next to them. Legolas turned to take his first look at Arwen, daughter of Elrond, and if anyone seemed to get more beautiful with time, it was certainly her.  
  
"Arwen, what a sight you are!" he said with twinkles in his eyes, as his gaze swept over her dark wavy hair, held back with an intricate braid, her porcelain skin and her light blue garments that seemed to flow over her beautiful figure like a gentle and lazy river. "You will be the center of the Ball, no doubt!"  
  
Arwen's lips slightly curled up at that and she waited only a moment before she replied: "Does that mean that the Prince will grant me the honor of a dance?" The playful and daring tone of her voice was hard to miss, but at that moment, Legolas was missing on a lot of things, for in his mind he was still wandering in the woods with Irulan, talking about his life, her life and Middle Earth altogether. Any other day, he would have found the glitter in her eyes most irritating. Today, it just seemed to add to her beauty.  
  
"If your admirers will give me the chance - but I fear that three nights will not be long enough for my turn to ever come up!" he heard himself answering, and it sounded distant and unimportant.  
  
Arwen's eyebrows slowly rose up at that. Along with the other men's in the company. Boromir and Eomer shared a quick glance, while Aragorn turned around and took his second long look at the Prince ever since he had returned to the palace, wondering if he had missed something. Legolas would always discourage Arwen's stubborn attempts with a cold and blank attitude, either completely ignoring it, or -from time to time- very deftly and yet unmistakably hinting to his definite disinterest in such a pursuit. Tonight though.......  
  
The elf, unaware or uncaring of the stares directed at him, took a long glance at the room. Indeed, many other representatives had arrived tonight. The Ball was yet many days away, but such an event was never an occasion by itself. It was usual that guests would come early and attend several dinners, hunting parties, breakfasts in the gardens, city tours and so on and so forth.......in its entirety, at least three Legolases would have to be present to do all these tasks and at the same time not die from the effort. But there was only one and he was already burdened both with his usual duties, and with overseeing ridiculous details regarding the preparations of the Ball, for even though he had the most skilled three men at his service, everything ended up on his personal desk.  
  
When he returned his gaze to the present company, all blinked and swiftly looked away. All but Arwen, who looked Legolas up and down with a slow, serpentine gaze and ended up locking eyes with him, the pleasure in her expression as evident as the sun in a clear summer day. As a matter of fact, it was so obvious, that Aragorn could not help himself shifting slightly on his feet, trying to direct his thoughts away from the incredible fire that was burning in his stomach.  
  
At that very moment Haldir suddenly appeared beside them, engaging into a long greeting with Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen. This normally would have been extremely irritating...if Legolas had not been thinking about how Irulan had touched him on the arm, and sent that peculiar chill down his spine, that is. As the Lothlorien elf talked on and on, he unconsciously touched his forearm where her hand had been just a few hours ago and engaged into childish thoughts as to what he could do to make her repeat the gesture again, in the future. After seemingly endless minutes of pretense listening to his untiring voice, Legolas found the attention of Haldir shifting to himself and slightly turned his head to hear what the other elf had to say.  
  
"Prince Legolas," began Haldir in his usual cool demeanor that seemed to have no effect on the other's psyche today, "I need to discuss with you a matter of utmost importance."  
  
"Of course. Is it a private matter?" the Prince replied, disinterest evident in his voice, since he knew the ways of the Lord of Lothlorien only too well.  
  
"Not really. It concerns my food."  
  
Boromir and Aragorn rolled their eyes at each other while Eomer pursed his lips to suppress a chuckle. As usual, Haldir was trying his very best to torture the Prince, knowing very well that Legolas was not the person he should go to with a problem like that, and also knowing that it made Legolas unfittingly temperamental when he did.  
  
"Tell me how I can assist you, Lord Haldir," was the cool reply.  
  
"I wish to give you a list of the food that I enjoy along with the combinations I find unpleasant. I am sure that such a.......small......favor is not too much to ask."  
  
Aragorn closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath and wishing the Valar to grant him patience with this man. Lord Elrond was observing the whole affair with utmost concentration while Boromir and Eomer had their looks diverted to their feet and Arwen would not tear her eyes away from the Prince for any price.  
  
Needless to say, though, that each and every of them looked up with surprise when the Prince spoke with a very warm and soft voice: "Not at all. I will attend to it personally. Do you have it with you now?"  
  
The silence that set in on the company was astonishing. Haldir opened and closed his mouth several times, caught off guard at his pretense (for he had no such list at all and never thought that it would be asked for) while Legolas patiently waited for his reply (and all this time his mind stubbornly refused to tear itself away from the walk on the soft grass of the forest). For the third time Aragorn cast a long look at the Prince and this time the First and the Second Captain joined him.  
  
After several moments a blushed Haldir cleared his throat and managed a "No. I shall.......send it.....to you later."  
  
"Shall I accompany you where you have it, now? I would not want you to feel neglected at dinner tonight."  
  
Haldir blushed a deeper red and the color was most unnatural on an elf. He shot an angry look at Legolas, who stared back at him with confusion. The Prince's mind was simply not reverting to current events. He was aware that he was talking, but oddly, he kept failing to concentrate on what he was saying.  
  
"It is not that urgent a matter," Haldir murmured finally.  
  
"I thought you said it was," Legolas replied with sincere innocence, upon which the other elf curtly excused himself and abruptly left the company, going wild with the realization that now he was forced to actually sit down and write a lengthy list to the damned Prince of this cursed land.  
  
Legolas stared after him baffled for a few moments, and then turned to his Rivendell guests once more. Both, along with the company had grown unusually quiet, but needless to say that the ruler of Ithilien failed to realize that, too. "Please excuse me for now. We shall meet at dinner." With that, he bowed slightly, a soft smile on his lips, and turned around to his other guests.  
  
His three friends shot each other meaningful looks and shrugs, then followed their Prince around in the room as he approached each guest and welcomed them to his home and kingdom. As the hour grew later, one by one, the visitors left to prepare themselves for dinner and after all were gone, Legolas exited the room with light steps, moving towards his own chambers to change his attire for the official meal. His wardens, of course, were at his heels at always.  
  
After another string of silent looks and gestures behind his back, Aragorn rolled his eyes and began to speak. "How are you feeling, Legolas?"  
  
The Prince gave him an odd look. "Good. Yourself, Aragorn?"  
  
The Chief Advisor tried a more direct approach. "You seem.....in a different mood."  
  
"I do?" said Legolas and furrowed his brows, turning another corner and resuming ascending some steps, "In a good way, or bad way?"  
  
"Well......I'm not sure. Has something happened?"  
  
"Like what, exactly?"  
  
When Aragorn decided to give in to the urge of rolling his eyes, Boromir cut in. "Is something on your mind?"  
  
"Many things are on my mind, Boromir," was the Prince's brisk reply.  
  
"No, I mean something important. You seem not yourself."  
  
Legolas, not slowing down, turned to take a look at him. Then he turned to look ahead again and swiftly ascended some other steps, the men following with ease. "I don't know what you are all hinting at. Will you come out and say it openly or shall we continue playing this game?"  
  
The three men exchanged glances. "I guess we were mistaken, then," Aragorn said finally, with a highly dubious voice.  
  
Legolas nodded slightly. "I suppose you were. In any case," he said and slowed his steps as the doors of his private chambers came into view ahead, "If we get no chance to talk about this later on, I want the breakfast tomorrow to be held in the garden of the northwestern wing. And I trust that the welcome gifts of the guests has been arranged and handed out already?"  
  
"They will find it in their rooms, Sire" said Eomer softly.  
  
"Good. Do not forget to pick up Lord Haldir's list for tomorrow-" he added absent-mindedly, to which all three men exchanged another set of glances, "and......ah yes, perhaps you can arrange a city tour for tomorrow with the guests......" he continued, looking into the distance when Boromir could not help but cut in with deep confusion etched in his voice:  
  
"We?"  
  
Legolas blinked and turned to him at his comment. "Yes," he said slowly.  
  
"Where......Sire.....will you be, if you do not mind me asking?" The First Captain asked when Legolas did not explain any further.  
  
"I will be in the woods," the Prince said with a casual tone. "Now the last time we did not get the chance to show them the aqueducts. Personally I think that-"  
  
"Why would you be in the forest?"  
  
Legolas turned to Boromir with forced patience on his face. "Because I choose to be."  
  
Another silence. "Perhaps you should attend as well?" the First Captain tried again.  
  
"I have you to run these things in my stead, don't I?" the Prince said with a soft voice and all three men flinched as if he had slapped them in the face. Never before had he said such a thing.  
  
"Of course," broke in Aragorn, thinking that he should take over now, "however, you know that....."  
  
"I trust you to the fullest," Legolas cut him off gracefully. "I am certain that you can manage perfect without me."  
  
"Yes but-"  
  
"If no more explanations will be DEMANDED of me, I will go and change now. And I urge you to do the same," the Prince said, once more drowning Aragorn's objection and this time there was an edge to it that was hard to miss.  
  
Yet another tense silence.  
  
"When will you return? From the woods, I mean," Eomer said finally, trying to walk around the issue instead of running into it head-first.  
  
"When I feel like it," Legolas said with another laid-back tone and having arrived at his doors, turned to face the men who just stood staring at him.  
  
"I'll see you in a short while," the elf said and turned to walk in as one of his guards at the door opened it for him. Then abruptly he halted and turned around as if having forgotten to say something and added with a tone of voice that was immensely terrifying in its softness and lightness: "Oh.......by the way......if I EVER in my lifetime hear that horn again, I will make sure that it will be the VERY LAST THING that rings in the memory of whoever ordered it to be blown." Saying this, he observed the shock and fear on the faces of the three men before him and instantly felt an immense satisfaction seep into his system as he pitied the fact that he had not done it earlier. 'Nevertheless, I am learning, and there is A LOT that needs to change around here,' he thought with amusement.  
  
Boromir, Aragorn and Eomer's eyes widened at the unbelievable fire in the Prince's eyes along with the frostiness of his voice that almost caused a shiver to run through all three of them. Unconsciously, they stopped breathing as the elf turned around once more and disappeared behind the closing doors, while the company bore disbelieving looks into the door long after it was shut. 


	7. A Decision of Fate

"Will someone tell me again HOW exactly we ended up here?" said Boromir again, sighing with discomfort as their horses trotted along yet another winding in the path.  
  
In reply, Aragorn sighed again. He squinted his eyes and looked up at the sky, amazed how the heat was evident already.  
  
"I am worried for the Prince," Eomer said, lost in his own thoughts. "What could have overcome him so?"  
  
The other two men almost nodded unconsciously. The oddness in Legolas' behavior was getting more prominent by the hour. He seemed to have become so.......careless and fearless. Not to mention.....that constant annoying damn smile of his! If Aragorn did not know better, he would say that the endless day-dreaming of the Prince, his solitary walks in the gardens and his long visits to the woods along with his sudden and reasonless chuckles would indicate him being in love. But.......that seemed too far-fetched a thing to assume about Legolas. Besides, there was no one around for him to be in love with.  
  
"He is becoming more unpredictable and sharper by the day. I am afraid that soon he might actually attain a whip and use it on us or something!"  
  
Aragorn scratched his chin. "But we have the solution for that, don't we?"  
  
"I can not imagine her to accept, but it's worth a try," said Eomer quietly, his eyes scanning the crowd of trees.  
  
"To think that we -the most powerful men in the kingdom- have to go after some wild woman" -he still refused to call her a lady when Legolas was not around to hear it- "to convince her to attend the Ball SHE should be begging to attend to, in the first place!"  
  
Aragorn sighed again and was about to tell them that they better succeeded in this, when a shrill voice suddenly thundered through the forest: "You have come across a valiant knight! This shall be your last hour!"  
  
All three men instantly stopped their horses and swiftly sliding down their saddles, remained rooted, waiting for another sound to guide them. They did not have to wait long, for in a few moments a horrible cry erupted from their right and cut through the stillness. The men, being trained by the best and honed by experience, did not falter for an instant, and silently sprang through the dense array of trees, moving as noiseless as shadows. They had run a good hundred feet when the voice boomed up again, and was accompanied by a loud clatter: "Aaaaarggggghhhhh! Vile orcs! Here! There! DIEEEEEEEEE!"  
  
Without further communication, the two captains and the advisor drew their swords in perfect unison, the adrenaline in their blood burning like some slow, deep fire. Being warriors was their second nature - and the call for blood came to them like the most seductive temptress - so irrefutable was she.  
  
"Attack! Armies of Ithilieeeeennnn!" was the last screech they heard and Aragorn deftly thought "Armies of Ithilien?!" before they broke through the trees almost at the same moment and found themselves in a small clearing, which -unlike general expectance- was not filled with disgusting, horrifying orcs lost in their frenzy for blood. Aragorn, Boromir and Eomer remained glued in their tracks, chests heaving, their pupils dilated with excitement, their mouths hanging open and stared at the only other occupant of the clearing, whose back was turned to them and who was busy bashing a stick at a group of bushes, sending leaves and sticks flying off in a crazy whirlwind. It was easy to see that she was a girl, dressed in a simple, but non-mistakable dress, her blonde hair flying around her in an array of tangles.  
  
"DEATH TO YOU ALLLL!!!"  
  
Eomer winced with the impossibly high and loud pitch of the voice as the three men seemed simply incapable of tearing their eyes away from this creature. Many moments passed but neither the men, nor the girl realized, since all parties were far too much involved with their current tasks - her with killing the bushes and them, watching her do it.  
  
Finally the woman seemed to tire and hitting the innocent plants a few more times, stood staring at her work. By this time Aragorn had sheathed his sword and, crossing his arms on his chest, his head slightly cocked, grinned at the appearance before him. A similar grin mirrored on Eomer's handsome face while Boromir remained agape, utter confusion there to see for everyone.  
  
When she stood motionless, still panting and heaving from the effort, Aragorn decided that it was time.  
  
"Ahem........"  
  
Eowyn turned around so fast, she almost lost her footing and landed in the middle of the carcass of bushes she had created. Instinctively her stick shot out before her, held in both hands. Her hair flew out like a fan and then settled below her waist again. In the tense silence that followed, the trained eyes of the men swept over her and caught many details, the most apparent one being that she was actually quite beautiful - underneath all the sweat and dirt, that is.  
  
"Enforcement has arrived, my lady. But I fear that you have slaughtered all and left none for us," said Aragorn with his signature grin, his arms still crossed on his chest. At his words, Boromir and Eomer inaudibly huffed and sheathed their own swords.  
  
Eowyn remained frozen for a while. But it lasted surprisingly short. Before any could enjoy her shock, she had already pushed up her chin, planted the stick next to her foot like a cane and placing one hand on her hip, taken a far more leisure stance. Aragorn's eyebrows shot up at that and he exchanged glances with his friends.  
  
"Of course," she said with a cool voice that seemed to be completely different from the inhuman noise that had echoed through the woods a few minutes ago. And then, to everyone's amazement, she added "You are late."  
  
"And who does Ithilien have to thank for this heroic deed?" Eomer said with a wonderful smile.  
  
"Eowyn, at your service," the girl said and instead of a curtsy, bowed slightly.  
  
All three men liked her instantly in an irreversible way.  
  
Eowyn stared another moment at the three most powerful men in the entire kingdom and probably Middle Earth itself before her, for she had recognized them right away, of course. Her lips curved in a sinister smile, then. "Did you come for Irulan?" she said, surprising them yet again.  
  
"Well......yes, dear lady," Aragorn said in amazement, pleasantly stupefied by her strangeness.  
  
"I am no lady," Eowyn said, her blue eyes boring into his.  
  
Boromir rolled his eyes and moaned audibly. "One of THOSE!"  
  
*******  
  
"I knew he liked her!" she yelled into the rhythmic and lazy clatter of hooves.  
  
Eomer, who was sitting on the saddle behind her, chuckled softly.  
  
"I still don't see how........but I suppose it is safe to assume an evil spell to bring the downfall of Ithilien!" mumbled Boromir from his own horse.  
  
"Nah," was Eowyn's reply. "Only the Prince's."  
  
Aragorn grinned at that. "IF we can make her come to the Ball - which, I suspect, will not be easy."  
  
Eowyn frowned and looked into the distance with glazed eyes, her sharp mind working visibly. "Oh no, it won't. So gentlemen......what is your strategy?"  
  
The men exchanged amused glances. "We were hoping that Captain Eowyn herself would come up with something," said Eomer.  
  
"Hmmmmm........." They watched her in silent thinking for a few minutes, after which she dreamily said "I think we need to attack swiftly and without mercy. And from all angles at once!"  
  
"She is that dangerous?" Boromir laughed softly.  
  
"Only when she is angry. So we'll hit her before she finds the chance to get angry in the first place."  
  
Aragorn shook his head and thought that what a shame it was for women not to be allowed into the army.  
  
*****  
  
No one else knew and no one else needed to know. For one thing, it would be a catastrophic information that would start rolling like some giant boulder down a slope (pushed by Eowyn and Chemarit, no doubt) and end up plastering her to the very ground in unspeakable agony. No joking - Irulan was VERY certain about this part.  
  
And also.......she looked up to the clear summer sky, dotted with the soft crowd of clouds.......also, it was private. In an unexplainable way, it was something that belonged to her, and to her alone. In a shallow life, where NOTHING she had was her sole possession (except the memory of her father), Irulan felt like she had been presented something invaluable. And she became dangerously protective of it. 'No one else needs to know,' she told herself silently, once more, and this time diverted her gaze towards the direction of where the stream lay. She threw another sidelong glance at Chemarit, and decided that she would go, after all. After an endless debate with her inner voice, her heart, and her brain all morning, it seems like the option of going there again simply for the walk itself, had won after all. 'It's just that I like that place,' she told herself, 'I go there often. I was going there before he ever showed up. And now that he has been there, I see no reason not to go again.'  
  
"Good," said her inner voice slyly, "for if I sense the slightest disappointment on your behalf if he is not to be found there, I will talk FOREVER on the issue, Irulan."  
  
Ignored waved the argument away, pretending that she had been waving away a fly and leaving the book aside, slowly scrambled to her feet.  
  
"Umm.......I am bored," she said and glanced down at Chemarit, who was half- sitting, half lying with his back to the bark of the tree. He opened an eye and slowly looked her up and down. Irulan hated it when he did that, for he seemed to see everything about her just by doing that.  
  
"You have not finished your book," he said slowly, his eyes not leaving her.  
  
She absent-mindedly rubbed her nose and looked away. "I don't feel up to it today. It's too hot."  
  
"Will you return home?"  
  
"No," she said, still looking away and slightly shifting on her feet, "I have finished my tasks for today. I have a few more hours before dinner."  
  
Chemarit just kept looking at her in that unbelievably annoying fashion of his. Both him and Irulan knew that it was probably the first time in the history of her life when she had actually finished all the tasks given to her by her stepmother and stepsisters - especially at such an early hour. But, lost in thoughts of quite a different nature, she had managed to come up with such spotless and quick work, that even the three women that so loved to torture her, had only stared with disbelief and in their shock, failed to come up with other and more original things for Irulan to do. Taking advantage of that bafflement, she had swiftly departed, finding herself with Chemarit underneath their tree.  
  
"Is something wrong, Irulan?" the old man said then and broke her train of thought.  
  
"Huh? Wh.....what could be wrong, Chemarit?" she stammered and cursed herself for stammering, because the narrowed eyes of Chemarit suddenly lit up with a firework of sparks and twinkles at that, and he sat up slowly, reminding her of a dangerous animal that took his position to jump and devour its prey. The prey in this case being Irulan.  
  
However today would not be her last day on earth, after all, because right then, Eowyn's voice spoke up from behind her and Irulan let out a long breath of relief before she turned around.  
  
"You were right, Irulan," Eowyn said and watched her friend's shoulders jerk up with the unexpected intervention. "They have come for you," she added with amusement as Irulan turned to face her.  
  
Eowyn would tell the shock on the other girl's face at the sight before her for many years to come, and to some highly unbefitting company, as none of the people standing in the circle that day, suspected yet. But for now, she just took in all the sight with hungry eyes and bit her tongue to keep it for later use. Let it also be said that all three men almost laughed out at the display of shock and fear twisting Irulan's features into a face she would never imagine herself showing, before. And for those who want to know, yes, Boromir felt an unbelievable satisfaction of seeing her as a perfect model for a deer who had sensed the tip of the arrow and stood stupefied, all thought of running forgotten, staring at the end of its existence, as we know it.  
  
Irulan would have moved, but her muscles clenched -except the ones around her eyes, which seemed to pull farther and farther apart- and therefore remained frozen in her stance. She opened her mouth, then closed it, unable to utter a sound. She repeated the action without success a few more times. So carried away in her surprise and fear was she, that she failed to read the relaxed and amused state of all four people in front of her, and naturally, therefore, she also failed to come to the conclusion that the view would be very different if, indeed, they had come for her head.  
  
Finally Aragorn decided to have mercy on her, for in his heart, a liking for Irulan had bloomed the first moment he had seen her. Though that would not stop him from the intended task before him. No, not at all. "We meet again, Lady Irulan," he said with that infamous grin, stressing the word "Lady".  
  
"Wha.......what?" Irulan whispered, feeling as if her eyes were growing even bigger still.  
  
"Or have you forgotten us so fast?" Boromir said from beside the first man, crossing his arms over his chest, the black tunic he wore doing fascinating things to his handsome body.  
  
Irulan's head jerked from one to the other. Other than that, she remained unresponsive.  
  
"Are you well, Lady Irulan?" Eomer cut in, then, taking a step towards her. Irulan locked eyes with him and -unlike her former experiences- recognized the Second Captain of the armies of Ithilien in spite of her jumbled state of mind and the first thing that flew through her head was -amazingly- "He is far more handsome than they say he is." Eomer was indeed an incredibly handsome fellow, but it was still strange to realize that at the current moment. Taking her silence as a sign he moved in closer yet, until he stood about two feet away and his hazel-green eyes locked with hers. "Are you feeling ill?"  
  
Irulan managed a nod. Then vehemently shook her head.  
  
Eomer threw a worried glance over his shoulder to the rest of the company.  
  
"Don't worry, Second Captain," Aragorn said, and stepped closer, himself. "If Lady Irulan should sway but the slightest, there are the three of us to catch her and secure her in our arms."  
  
At that, Irulan finally managed to move and took a hasty step back, almost knocking Chemarit down who, also, had risen to his feet and stood watching the event in silent astonishment. "What are you doing here?" Irulan said with a voice that shook with both anger and fear.  
  
"We came to see you," Eomer said gently from her left. She threw a quick glance at him and perhaps she would find him not trustable in some other context (since she mistrusted almost all men in power), but in the current company her brain instantly marked him as the only haven in a stormy sea. Then he continued, his eyes still glued to her, but his comment directed to his friends: "I can see that we have made her upset. Perhaps we should......"  
  
"Nonsense!" Boromir cut in on him. "She looks as......vivid......as ever, to me."  
  
Irulan's eyes took a darker tint at his tone of voice and her face became sour.  
  
"Well," she said slowly, her voice still slightly shaking, "you have found me. What do you want?"  
  
Aragorn's grin widened at that. "Ah...no welcome embrace, then?"  
  
Irulan shot an equally dangerous look at him and pushing her chin up, remained silent.  
  
Aragorn looked into the forest and wrinkled his nose. "It seems this is an important day, Lady Irulan," he said casually and refusing to look at her, clasped his hands behind his back. "Do you feel up to making a choice that will change your fate?" Irulan just stared at him with deep confusion and annoyance. Aragorn, on the other hand, met her stare with blank eyes that could be hiding anything in their green depths. He himself had no idea that he had uttered a sentence of utmost truth. "We have come to lay a choice before you," was his final comment.  
  
Neither her expression, nor her silence changed. The sounds of insects and birds invaded the clearing. To Irulan, this state seemed to last easily a few hours, though it was only a few moments. Then Chemarit croaked for the first time: "Er...perhaps it is just me...but....yes?"  
  
Aragorn cocked an eyebrow at him, faltering a little at this blow at his charismatic act, then finally, steering his eyes back to the girl in front of him, spoke again. "Will you suffer unspeakable torture, torment, humiliation and agony each hour of each day, for years and decades to come..." He trailed off for a moment, as his green eyes blazed at Irulan as if she was the only thing in the world, "..or..." another stretched moment when everyone simply forgot to inhale, "..come to the Ball?" he finished with a blurt of words very unbecoming to his former demeanor.  
  
Eomer and Eowyn bit mercilessly into their bottom lips in perfect unison to keep the laughter inside, and Boromir joined Irulan's confused stare at the Chief Advisor. But Irulan noted neither.  
  
She blinked once...twice....then said "What?"  
  
The audience turned to Aragorn once more. "I said," he began with a level tone, "will you suffer unspeakable torture-"  
  
"I heard what you said," Irulan cut in, slowly regaining her wits again, "does not make it more sensible."  
  
Realizing that she had begun to recover from her shock, and knowing that they would lose their advantage if they waited any further, Eowyn swiftly cut in and approached to stand before her. "The Ball, Irulan," she said softly as if talking to a little child and gently lay her hand on the other's shoulder. "These gentlemen have come to ask you to go to the Ball." One thing scared Irulan beyond measure - Eowyn had just said the word "gentlemen" instead of her usual glossary of "men, beasts, animals, worms, orcs, rock-brains," and far more daring terms that need no repetition here.  
  
"Or else you will suffer unspeak-" began Aragorn once more, but hushed under the silent stare of his two companions.  
  
Irulan shook herself free from Eowyn's grasp and stepped around her to take another look at the company. She crossed her arms on her chest and focused on Boromir and Aragorn, her stance alone an indication that the tables were turning on the issue - and with a fast pace, too. "I see...." she sneered, and how ironic that her tone resembled Aragorn's so much, "so this is a royal..threat, then?"  
  
"More like a last chance for your life," hissed Boromir. "Take it or leave it!"  
  
Irulan pursed her lips and a moment later exploded, saying "In that case, I leave it!" and surprised herself more than anyone else. Her mind was screaming for her to gather her wits, to fall on her knees and beg for forgiveness in the face of this threat on her very survival, but her anger and pride seemed to have taken hold of the reigns of the wild beast in her, a long time ago.  
  
"Irulan, don't be stupid," hissed Eowyn and made a move towards her again, but Irulan stepped back and just gave her a look that warned her of any further approach.  
  
"I will go to no Ball! And now that I know you want me to, I'd rather die than go!"  
  
"Perhaps it is me again..." broke in Chemarit, scratching his head, "but....why exactly would you ask her to do that?"  
  
"Yes, why?!" boomed Irulan, even though she had just given her answer concerning the matter.  
  
"Our reasons are our own," Aragorn said blankly.  
  
"They can't be very wise then, can they?" Irulan hissed, amazed at her own boldness and crudeness.  
  
"It is suffice to say that we ask it not for ourselves -which would be too far-fetched a thing to happen even in your wildest dreams, by the way- but for..." Boromir was saying with a dangerous tone when Aragorn broke in.  
  
"Say no more, First Captain! She has made her choice."  
  
"But the Prince..."  
  
"I said no more!"  
  
"What is this about the Prince?" sounded Irulan's irritated voice. 'Touché' thought Aragorn, but kept his face shrouded in pretense anger thanks to the training in the art for decades now.  
  
"Nothing that concerns you," he said and made as if to turn away with disinterest.  
  
"Well if I am about to suffer unspeakable torture, torment and agony for decades, I think I have a right to know why that is!" spat Irulan.  
  
The Ranger took a long look at her. Irulan stared back in equal strength. "Not that it matters anymore, but the Prince...is...very upset about your behavior in the matter."  
  
Irulan was stunned. "What the heck are you talking about?"  
  
"Are you deaf?" said Boromir with open impatience. "The Prince was infuriated beyond words of the way you handled him. His Highness! You belittled him in the middle of a very large crowd. And you belittled this Ball, which happens to be his sole and only dream for such a long time, now." Taking her confusion as a good sign, he continued hastily: "He insists that he can never show face in public again if you refuse to come and thereby take back those rude words you have uttered in his presence!"  
  
No one dared to breathe. No one but Irulan, who, still not any wiser why these men were so obsessed about making her go to that accursed Ball, but now very certain that they were lying, suddenly relaxed both inwardly and from the outside and even had to suppress a loud laughter. She could not help the twitch of her lips as she, once again, crossed her arms in front of her, and spoke with a soft voice: "So this is the story," she lazily gazed from one to the other, feeling the temptation of shaking her head in a manner of disapproving the deed of little, devilish children. "The Prince himself has sent YOU," she continued, taking idle strides around the waiting company, "to make me this offer of....what was it again?"  
  
"Unspeakable torture, torment.." began Aragorn, almost moaning, but Irulan did not let him continue.  
  
"Yes, yes, that. Or attending the Ball. He is upset, you say?"  
  
"Infuriated!" boomed Boromir.  
  
"Frantic!" added Aragorn.  
  
"Wild!" said Eowyn, and receiving a cocked eyebrow from Irulan, decided to stay out of the matter.  
  
"Hmmmmm.." She continued, still striding around. 'What an unbelievable display of acting!' she thought and almost laughed out loud again. No doubt that she would have fallen for it head-first if she had not met said Prince yesterday, herself. 'And wonderful team play too,' she mused a little more bitter, glancing at Eowyn, who stood in perfect innocence. "Well," she said finally with a louder voice, "I guess we should go then."  
  
Everyone blinked. "Go where?" said Eomer with confusion.  
  
"To the dungeons of course! This is the part when you carry me off to the palace and proceed with the torture and anguish."  
  
Aragorn this time openly moaned with distaste and barely kept himself from throwing up his hands. "Now listen, woman.." began Boromir, but Irulan was in no mood to listening any further.  
  
"Eowyn, you'll let my family know. Chemarit, goodbye. I always loved you." She took a last look at the forest and mocked a loud whimper, grabbing her heart with both hands anxiously. "Goodbye...I shall never set eyes on this world again! The dungeons shall be my home now! I shall befriend insects and rats and live in darkness, thinking of this clear summer day-"  
  
"Oh for the love of Uroth!" cried Boromir and began massaging his face.  
  
"Come on, let's go," Irulan insisted, enjoying herself beyond measure.  
  
"Lady Irulan," said Eomer suddenly from behind her then, and she could not help turning around. "Please believe me when I say that we do not wish to torture you in the least." Boromir snorted at that, but Eomer ignored him, his unbelievably beautiful eyes focused on her. Due to some miracle, that look suddenly killed the pleasure of the event. "Would you not come...for any price?"  
  
She took a deep breath and let out a shaky sigh. A breeze came up and rustled her dress and her hair, bringing the smell of flowers with it. "No," was her quiet answer.  
  
The silence that followed was not as playful and tense as the others. For no apparent reason, Irulan felt sad. She felt as if she would suffocate in the idleness and shallowness of her life. She unwillingly took a look down her dress. How could they ask her -HER- go to a Ball when she looked like this? When she was who she was? Was this a joke? Was everyone blind? Irulan had no inferiority complexes in the matter and her dislike for the Ball was sincere. And yet, she was also painfully aware of her place in society. Her sisters and mother were there to remind her, if she ever dared to forget, in the first place.  
  
"Not even your freedom?" Chemarit said suddenly. She looked up with glazed eyes.  
  
"My freedom?" mumbled Irulan, a frown on her face, her mind still saddened with recent thoughts.  
  
Chemarit took a step towards the company and glancing one last time in her direction, turned towards Aragorn: "Irulan shall come to the Ball-" and Irulan's eyes widened at that, while he continued, ignoring her stare, "...if she is promised her freedom at the end of it."  
  
"What do you mean?" said Eomer.  
  
Chemarit and Irulan locked eyes and the old man continued his speech in that state. "She will be given anything that is required for her to leave Ithilien with speed and ease. A good sum to secure her future. A good horse to take her far. A statement that declares that she is granted freedom from her current position as child to that spider of a woman. Anything.." With that, he broke his gaze with the unbelieving looks of the young girl and turned towards Eomer. "If she is granted these things and the freedom of leaving the morning after the third night of the Ball, she will accept to come."  
  
Irulan swallowed softly as her vision lost its sharpness due to the tears springing to her eyes. She fought them mercilessly down and dared not breathe as she waited for the answer. Freedom, it seemed, had found her finally. And it stood between the lips of the man who stood here, this very day.  
  
Aragorn did not answer immediately. He inspected Chemarit, then turned to sweep his gaze over the curious girl before him. It was the perfect deal. She would come to the festivities AND leave Ithilien. He glanced at Boromir and found pure pleasure on his face at the realization of that. It was the best thing for both parties - they would get what they wanted and she would get what she desired. Only..he scratched his chin with a discomfort that he could not understand... 'Do we really KNOW what we want? Do we really KNOW what is truly good for us?' said a voice in his head. Years of experience in the most dire situations, in the company of the most charismatic and powerful men of Middle Earth had taught him to listen to that voice. Even when reason said otherwise. Even when logic insisted on something else. He should listen to it.  
  
But not today. Today he would go by reason. And unknown to himself, make a big mistake. "Deal," he said into the silence and watched Irulan's head come up with surprise as his heart ached unexplainably at his decision. "Deal," he repeated louder, to shake off the feeling, and succeeded in doing so. The eerie feeling of a wrong action took flight, then, like bleak crows croaking and disappearing in the sky. The breeze came back and rustled the leaves. 'Indeed,' he thought, 'a decision of Fate is made today.' 


	8. Of Death and Rebirth

Irulan was running through the dense array of trees, almost flying by barks, roots and branches. She felt exhausted and incredibly hot, but could not bring herself to slow down. It seemed very unfitting to run to the little stream where she had last seen the Prince two days ago like this, for what was there to run? He would probably not be there anyway. He was the Prince of Ithilien, for Heaven's sake! He had FAR more important things to do than chit chat with a common servant girl.  
  
"Go on dreaming, Irulan," she scolded herself. "Like he is your match even for a simple conversation!"  
  
And yet, she could not slow down. For two days now she had been wriggling with the torture of denied coming. The first day the infamous company had appeared before her, first scaring her almost to death, then confusing her, and finally granting her something she could only dream of having. The second day her tasks at home had increased almost two-fold, for her stepsisters and stepmother -even though extremely busy with preparations for the Ball in every imaginable way- had not liked the fact of Irulan's extra free time of late and had added many new deeds to her current list of daily duties.  
  
And then there was the sensitive issue of coming here without alarming Chemarit or Eowyn, which was far harder than one would expect. Especially now that the issue of the Ball had taken a new turn and they were constantly bickering about what she should wear, do, eat, observe and so on, so forth.  
  
The Ball brought back the idea of the deal with it. The rules they had laid out together, were simple enough: One - Irulan would attend all three Balls. No problem there, though she felt the rise of oppression at the thought of hundreds of swirling gorgeous women, probably as many men, the castle, rulers and representatives from almost every land and kingdom and not to mention - the Prince himself.  
  
Two - None would tell the Prince about the whole issue. She would seemingly attend at her own wish and under no circumstances let him even so much as suspect that his closest three friends were involved in such an action. And naturally they would not let him know in any fashion that she was doing this at a price - her freedom. Irulan could not ignore the stab of shame and pain she felt at the thought of such pretense towards Prince Legolas. He had been nothing but kind and honest with her, and here she was, ready to lie to him for her own selfish interests.  
  
She shook her head and diverted her thoughts. Three - Eowyn would attend the Ball, as well. Now...Irulan did not really understand how such a demand would end up on HER deal. After all, she did not care if Eowyn attended or not. As a matter of fact, she did not even want the girl to attend, knowing that Eowyn would make those nights a parody of Hell for her. And that thought added to her suspicion that this was more the scheme of Aragorn, Boromir and Eomer, than her own. There seemed to have grown an undeniable bond between the woman and the three men in such a short time, and Irulan was not sure whether she liked it to be so or not.  
  
Four - needless to say that the three men would supply them with the necessary budget for this kind of event, for both girls were mere servants and received no payment and therefore had not a single saved penny. Irulan was stuck with her family while Eowyn had been an orphan and was serving a rather spidery old woman for the price of having a place to stay and food to eat.  
  
Five - As the token of her troubles, Irulan would receive a good sum of gold, along with every other necessity to aid her departure from Ithilien, the morning after the third night.  
  
In total, it should make her extremely happy, but the truth was, even though a part of her was grateful about the whole thing and felt blessed, odd enough another part of her felt...downright sad.  
  
Irulan spotted the little stream ahead of her and tried to slow down a little. She shoved the idea of the deal aside, now only wishing to still her beating heart. She pushed the last branches away and stepped into the early afternoon sun as a bundle of sweat and heat. Biting her lower lip, and trying very hard not to think about why she was here, Irulan slowly advanced towards the stream and washed her face in the cool water, the sensation on her warm skin tingling and refreshing.  
  
"You have come," rang his soft voice suddenly and she almost jumped up, having convinced herself that she would never hear it again.  
  
She turned towards it and watched the Prince walk out of the shadows of the nearby trees. A distinctive smile was on his lips and Irulan thought that the darker shade of his garments today looked far better on him. She tried to still her heart and wiping the remnants of water from her brow nodded, swallowing softly. "I......was passing by," she said, her chest still heaving from the run.  
  
"You were busy yesterday?" He said then, "And the day before?"  
  
She blinked in surprise. Had he actually come and waited for her? Impossible! "I......yes," she said curtly, clutching the hem of her shirt. .  
  
The Prince remained locked at her for another moment, then with a lighter tone added "I thought as much," as he approached her a few more steps. He knew that he had come too close when Irulan took a step back with his last one. So he remained on his spot, feeling incredibly happy for no reason at all.  
  
She dared a swift glance at him. "You look tired."  
  
Legolas nodded. "Aye. The Ball is drawing closer." With that, he looked up at the clouds gathering overhead, a frown on his face.  
  
"And?" Irulan said, breaking his concentration.  
  
"And......there are many things to do," he replied, not knowing what else to say.  
  
She laughed softly then and he wondered at the charm of it. "Do not tell me that you do those preparations personally!"  
  
"Well......"  
  
Irulan's eyes widened with disbelief. "What?!"  
  
"I have to oversee them," he said sheepishly and watched her shake her head.  
  
"Perhaps you should warn your future bride of this gloomy life that is awaiting her."  
  
Legolas felt a little abashed at the mention of his future wife, for he had no intention of getting married to someone he had only had a dance with. Also.......of all people, for HER to say that........he felt uncomfortable suddenly and shifted on his feet, looking away, trying to shake the feeling of disturbance that overcame him.  
  
Irulan noted his discomfort and realized that she had been the reason for it. Yet, it felt amusing to make the Prince itch so. "I do not know why you bother yourself so," she said, trying to hide her grin, "you could just let your advisors choose a wife for you."  
  
Legolas gave her a cool stare. "I choose my own wife," he said blankly, his blue eyes boring into hers.  
  
But Irulan refused to feel intimidated. She simply shrugged. "It would make things-"  
  
"I choose my own wife," Legolas growled slowly, appearing much closer suddenly. Irulan was once again amazed by his silent speed.  
  
"And how will you know she is the right one?" she said, not knowing whether her heart was still in a frantic rhythm due to the run or due to his presence.  
  
"I shall trust my heart," he said calmly, gazing down at her.  
  
Irulan looked him up and down, then nodded slowly. "Then you can not fail," she said with a soft voice.  
  
Legolas blinked at that. A warm smile crept up his face. She always found a way to amaze him, by the looks of it. And it felt so very, very good to be amazed. For one thing, it instantly erased all traces of the dire disappointment the elf had suffered for the last two days when he had waited at this very spot by the stream, and she had not shown up. So many things had viciously invaded his mind then.  
  
"I have scared her. She will never want to see me again!" he had thought in dismay and his heart had pained unbearably at that thought. Though his mind kept trying to persuade him that it meant nothing, that such a thing was of little or no importance, the pain was enough proof that it was of importance - and a great one at that, too.  
  
"She did not like me,' he thought then and that idea was even more hurtful. Then the most dreadful of all had occurred to him and he had almost given in to its bleak torment - perhaps she had left already. Maybe she had gone from here, gone from his reach forever. He had lost her.  
  
In the heat of the torture of such thoughts he had stubbornly walked through the region repeatedly, his senses focused on any sign of her approach, his mood growing unbelievably bitter at the loss of it. And then, like some miracle from the heavens, he had heard her running, long before she came into sight.  
  
No words could have described the relief Legolas felt at that sound. All hope regarding any possibility of happiness in life that had been ripped from him in a torturous slowness in the last couple of days, was returned to him within that moment at once and his skin had tingled with the overload of emotions surging through him. It was at that very moment, as her footsteps were beating on the forest floor, growing louder and louder, Legolas had thrown all reason into the fire, letting go of his mind and burning the bridges that lead to the paths of reason, never to tread on them again. He did it with such ease and lightness of heart, that he did not even remain to watch them burn, and strode away as the flames claimed them.  
  
From that instant on, he did not care why she mattered so much. He did not care why everything else mattered so little. The world seemed warm and alive in her circle and like a moth dancing around the light does not question why that is, Legolas decided on some unconscious level that he, neither, would question why it was so. He would just dance around the glow that was Irulan, hoping that the warmness would find its way into his heart and revive what has been dead and frozen for too long now.  
  
They stood staring at each other for some more moments, not knowing where to go from here. Finally it was Irulan who broke the silence, looking up at his face with dark frustration and saying: "This Ball of yours......is it......going to be long?"  
  
"Too long," Legolas said absent-mindedly, watching her frown with fascination. "It will last all night."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Uroth have mercy on my soul! What will I DO?"  
  
He blinked and seemed to wake up from a dream at that. "Why?"  
  
Irulan grunted with dismay and stomped to sit under a nearby tree. Legolas silently fell in step beside her, trying to make eye contact with her. "You will not BELIEVE this!"  
  
"Is everything alright, Irulan?"  
  
"No," was her curt reply. "For I will be attending that horrible Ball."  
  
Legolas actually missed a step and only by pure elven reflex managed to keep himself from falling. Finding his balance again momentarily, he stood still and watched her sink on the lush grass in the cool shadow of the tree. Irulan, in her frustration, was oblivious to him. She sat biting her fingernails until the thought of him returned to her and looking up, she took in his astonished state. When their eyes met, Legolas broke out of his daze and with the fluidity of a panther, moved in to sit beside her, without alerting her with his proximity. He did not need to worry - Irulan was too busy fretting over recent events to notice.  
  
"You will come?" he said with such disbelief and softness, that even under the pressure of such happenings, she found herself marveling at his fine nature.  
  
She sighed deeply and started to rip grass before she replied. "It seems that you will not be alone in your misery, Your Highness. I shall be there to join you!"  
  
Legolas was so stunned by this news, he did not feel the usual sting that accompanied each time she addressed him so. He was thrown back and forth between cherishing the physical closeness between them and delving into the issue at hand. "If you will be there, I will not be in misery," he said absent-mindedly.  
  
Irulan froze in mid-action, the grass clenched between her fingers, her face facing the ground. Suddenly growing aware that he had once again made her uneasy with his boldness, he hastily added "What made you change your mind so?"  
  
Slowly relaxing a little, Irulan resumed her task of grass ripping. "Not 'what'. More like 'who'."  
  
"Pray explain," Legolas said gently.  
  
Irulan opened her mouth, but then suddenly remembered the deal. She cast a sidelong glance at his direction and then ripped a handful of grass while trying very tentatively to walk around the subject. "It is........well someone........insisted. And so.......I.......I.......agreed. And anyway, that is not the important part. What matters is.......I am DOOMED!"  
  
Legolas was listening to her, but her words seemed like the distant flutter of bird wings. Yet, she was right. The 'how' was not important. The important part was that she was coming.  
  
And suddenly the incredible happened - he became desperately expectant of that dreadful and damned Ball.  
  
"What will we do?" Irulan said, turning to him, deep frustration etched on her face.  
  
Legolas shrugged with elven grace. "I suppose," he said and the smile on his face did little justice to the joy in his heart, "we will...dance."  
  
Irulan looked at him for a moment, then moaned audibly and rolled her eyes. The Prince broke into soft laughter at that. Which made Irulan give him a sour sidelong glance. And that made him beam with pleasure.  
  
"Easy for you to say!" she mumbled, a distant part of her amazed at how comfortable she felt in his presence. "I have never been to a Ball before. And I have to say, it sounds pretty terrifying."  
  
Legolas watched her swirl the green grass stems between her fingers. "It is meant to be entertaining. To present a chance of meeting new people and making new friends," he said, repeating Aragorn's arguments.  
  
"Not to mention," added Irulan with a devilish grin, "to find future wives!" She laughed softly at his expression that instantly turned sour. She had found a very sensitive spot, by the looks of it!  
  
"I think it is both ways, Irulan," he said sheepishly, unable to feel angry at her and enjoying her joy even at his own expense. "You could find your future husband."  
  
Now, why did that thought evoke such peculiar feelings in him? He had no chance of delving further into the matter as she let out a loud "Hah!" and continued: "I have no intentions of marriage."  
  
"Why is that?" he said, surprised. He had never met a woman who carried no such intentions, before.  
  
"There is much to do in life! So much to see! So many places to go! I do not wish to tie myself down before I have done enough to satisfy my spirit!" Legolas cupped his chin and watched her with an intense gaze as she talked. "I believe life to be a gift. I want to make the best of it. I want to try everything at least once and see all the wonderful things Middle Earth can offer me. I want to see the dwarven cities, and the elven kingdoms, and the ocean, and the impassable mountains, and the ancient forests where magic lurks, and..." she trailed off, realizing his concentration and swallowed softly, returning to ripping grass as a pink blush hit her cheeks.  
  
"Why did you stop?" he said a moment later.  
  
Irulan merely shrugged. She looked up at him, then. "Do you think me foolish, Your Highness?"  
  
Legolas released his hand and looked her in the eye. "I would never think so about you," he whispered softly and Irulan regretted asking, since his manner only made her blush further. A silence settled between them as the realization of his identity hit her again. "Please continue," he said finally.  
  
Irulan shook her head. "Why did you come here?" she said finally and found the courage to gaze in his direction. 'He is made for the company of poets,' Irulan thought, her eyes taking in the majestic beauty of Legolas, 'not a simple servant girl.'  
  
"To see you," he said without hesitation.  
  
She blinked with surprise at his open sincerity and his fearlessness of such a confession. "Why would you want to see me?" she said slowly, "I have nothing to offer to you."  
  
"You have your company to offer me. It is more than I could wish for."  
  
"I find that kind of hard to believe, Your H-"  
  
"Please," cut in Legolas softly, "don't say.......that."  
  
Irulan bit her lip, inwardly scolding herself for using his title. She dared not speak up again, her emotions surging through her like a roaring river. "Is it so difficult to understand the pleasure I find in merely your company?" he said with a gentle tone and resisted the urge to touch her, even though every particle in his body wept with the need.  
  
"I am a simple woman," she said then, thinking that honesty on her behalf was only fair.  
  
"And I am but only a simple man," Legolas whispered, his blue eyes glued to her brown ones.  
  
"No.....I mean......" began Irulan and halted, not knowing how to explain it without mentioning his title or status. "I am ONLY that," she finished then, lacking other words to describe her thoughts.  
  
Legolas sighed softly from beside her. "And I admire you for it." When Irulan did not dare to glance at him again, he continued: "If you could only let me be so, too......" This time she did look up at him, and he smiled. "If anyone, YOU could grant me such a priceless gift."  
  
Irulan raised her eyebrows to urge him to explain. Legolas looked into the distance then, and Irulan found herself watching his profile as the breeze played with his silver-blonde hair that fell well below his shoulders and she noticed that it was not braided today. It gave him an even more youthful and astounding appearance. "I sit here with you......and I feel so.......free. Only here with you do I feel free. Here I have no title," he said, and his words were like music to her soul as she sat in amazement, drinking in his sight and sound. "I have no crown, no throne. No duties haunt me. No decisions taunt me. No past matters bind me. Nor do future events tie me. Here I find myself in such a strange state as I have not known before.......and I did not know what it was for a time........but finally it dawned on me...." With that he turned and looked at her and Irulan felt caught off guard at that. "It is but the feeling of freedom. The absence of pretense. Of judgment. Of all the garments that I am forced to wear day in and day out. Of all the things that tire my soul so." Legolas looked away again, afraid that he would no longer be able to suppress the urge to touch her and act out his wish. "It is like healing to my heart," he said quietly and watched the tree branches sway with the combings of the wind.  
  
A joy like no other came over Irulan, then. Never in her entire life, not a single day and a single minute had she felt of such importance and capable of such a deed for anyone. Never had she felt so powerful. So......needed. It was such a foreign sensation, so unexpected, and so.......grand. So massive that it tore her heart apart and instantly mended it again. If she died tomorrow, she would die knowing that she was missed; that she was.......wanted.  
  
She swallowed a lump as the incredible happiness threatened to turn into a sob of the most peculiar nature. She opened her mouth, not sure what to say, but certain that she should say something before the silence swept her into deeper emotions. "Then my life was not in vain, Legolas," rolled off her tongue in one breath.  
  
Legolas inhaled a sharp breath as the unexpected hit him, and by the feeling of it, it hit him right at his heart, which bled a liquid fire that slowly oozed through his whole body. Very, very slowly he turned to her and allowed his eyes to search out and find hers, which were oddly wet and laced with confusion, alarm and happiness at the same time.  
  
If one has to define his state then, it would be safe to say that the Legolas we know died at that very moment, under that tree, that summer day. He simply ceased to exist. One moment he was there, sitting and looking out to the forest, the next he was gone. He was no more. Perhaps he had never been - so absolute was his departure. Like the thinnest layer of steam on a windowpane, wiped away with the simple motion of a hand, he was swept clean by something his mind was incapable of grasping. Like a tattered dream, fading instantly with the fluttering of the eyelids, gone was Legolas, the ruler of Ithilien. No more was Legolas the elf.  
  
He stared at the creature before him who had the terrible power to do such a thing - a simple woman by the looks of her........but one who could kill with a look, swipe one blank with a single utterance. A goddess, then. A goddess in the disguise of a woman, endowed with the gift of handing out death and life with such simple acts. Why, how blind he had been! Blind not to have seen through her disguise any sooner. Blind to have thought of her as a woman only.  
  
He decided to tell her, then. To tell her of his glorious discovery. But instead, other words fell from his tongue: "What did you say?"  
  
Irulan's brows furrowed ever so slightly. Once again she tried to turn away, but her eyes refused to move. She blinked to suppress their stinging. "I said-" she began quietly, but he cut her off:  
  
"Say my name again," he whispered and his voice was absolutely not something a normal being could be capable of.  
  
Despite her fear and anxiety, Irulan managed a smile. "Legolas," she said softly and thought that it was the most beautiful thing to say in the world.  
  
Legolas closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. He had absolutely no idea what was happening to him, and he doubted that he was capable of understanding. All he knew was that now he had heard his name so, he could never be the same again.  
  
"Please," he heard his own whisper, though he had no intention of speaking, "say it again."  
  
Irulan smiled a deeper smile and felt elated for no reason at all. "Legolas," she said, watching his elven face struggling to remain blank. "Have you forgotten who you are?" she said with a gentle and amused tone.  
  
He opened his eyes then and cherished the fact that she was the first thing his eyes rested on. "Nay. I think I finally remembered." 


	9. A Gift From the Heart

I really need to watch this Every After movie! It bugs me to think that, quite unknowingly, my writing is so similar to something that is out there. Although, being the classic Cinderella story, after all, you can make only so many changes to it. It will remain the fairy tale we all know...  
  
Or will it?  
  
Anyway..I know, I know! It is so fluffy, and cheesy and overdone and all that. But...that is precisely why I chose to write a romance. No angst. No action. No darkness. It IS a fairy tale. At least, I keep repeating myself that, for sometimes even I feel like I have overdone the romance in this story. And at other times I just remind myself that it is entertainment, period.  
  
Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. As always, it feels incredible to know that against all odds, there are those who enjoy my story. We share a common bond that I find simply...amazing.  
  
As to the chapters..PAY NO HEED TO THE NUMBER. Fanfiction.net insists that I have an extra chapter and I can not locate it myself. I might have to remove the whole story and reload it to fix that issue, I'm afraid. Until then..that message is an error message.  
  
So..where were we? Ah yes...the curtain opens and act 9 begins. The Ball is very close now...and I have many twists and turns up my sleeve. Until then, I have to lay out the details that I intend to use later on. Meaning, the characters have to learn certain things about and from one another so that the plot can thicken in the upcoming chapters. So seemingly unimportant or dragging scenes or dialogues are there for me to help develop the story, and I like the reader to discover things by him or herself, rather than for me to explain everything in a dry paragraph.  
  
Besides, I love to write innocent chapters like the one below..for it feels damn good to destroy their implication later on. Ha ha ha! Er..sorry...just enjoy!  
  
*******  
  
Legolas strode into the palace with such childish glee, that everyone who looked at his face was forced to take another look. The dark mood that had claimed him for two days now like some mysterious disease was lifted from his eyes, which shone like rare gems in his beautiful visage. As he walked, an aura of lightness and joy flowed from him, and while the elves sensed it immediately, even the crudest humans halted in mid-action, feeling the strange vibration in the air.  
  
Even the crudest........except for three men. Three men who were so involved in the struggles of their own scheme, that neither noticed the mood of the Prince. He strode by them, and it was as if soft water had flown over hard rocks - the aura bounced off their anxious state and was lost to them. Forget about the aura, they did not even notice the Prince himself as they stood in a corner, trying to figure out the details of their plans.  
  
Legolas, equally unaware of them, walked by like a flaming torch and stepped into the massive garden, glancing around. Maids, servants and cooks were running around, trying to finish the last preparations for the day's dinner. The number of the visitors in the castle was now high enough to turn every little attempt into an event that required immense amount of preparation and work.  
  
The Prince hesitated only for a moment, his eyes rolling over the crowd, before he delved amongst them, his eyes in an unbroken search.  
  
At that very moment, Arwen appeared beside him, as swift and silent as only an elf could be. Legolas was surprised by her sudden sight and blinked momentarily before a smile spread on his face.  
  
"Legolas," she purred slowly, "I have rarely seen you! Why do you deprive us so of yourself?"  
  
The smile on his face grew wider, but not wide enough to break his search through the crowd. His eyes did another wide arch in the garden before they rested on the elf before her. "Forgive me, Arwen. This Ball proved to be a far more challenging task than I imagined," he said, noticing neither her beauty, nor charm.  
  
Arwen took another step towards him, but he seemed oblivious to her movement. "You need another to share this burden with," she said slowly, her gorgeous blue eyes resting on his. "It is no task for a man alone."  
  
"The Princess of Rivendell is, as always, wise beyond any man," was his reply, and it certainly amazed Arwen enough to put her at a loss of words for a moment. For his usual response was expected to be much harsher, colder or insensitive. Probably all three.  
  
"Perhaps," she said softly, gaining confidence by his lack of rejection, "you will find such a person at this Ball?"  
  
Legolas' darting eyes met hers again, then, and he cocked his head before he answered. "Perhaps. It would not surprise me in the least," he said in a dreamy way.  
  
"Ah," sighed Arwen with amusement, "I see that your heart is already prepared for such a thing."  
  
Legolas blinked in surprise. "Indeed," he whispered, brows furrowed. A moment later he added "Too long have I dwelt in idle loneliness. I am more than willing to change that."  
  
Arwen held her breath and swallowed softly. "As am I," she said, gazing into his eyes, that had evaded her again, scanning the crowd instead. At her unblinking gaze, Legolas' attention returned to her and he looked her up and down as if seeing her for the first time. Arwen was an incredibly beautiful elf and tonight she seemed to have surpassed even herself in that. The dress she wore was of rose-colored fabrics that encircled her form with fine layers, held at her waist by a large sash of dried roses, and flowing towards her arms in deft tones of blue and darker red. The Rivendell elf's pale contour stood in between these layers and added to the effect immensely. All in all, she resembled a rose of finest nature.  
  
Legolas' scrutinizing look went from head to toe, then slowly back, and Arwen, who expected a dazed amazement as the result, was more than shocked to see complete and blind disinterest. If not for all her years of finest upbringing, her mouth would have dropped open for sure. As it was, she just remained glued to her spot, wrestling with the realization that she had failed to capture the smallest particle of interest from the man before her. "No.....you will not do........" Legolas murmured with a deep frown and then turned into the garden again. An instant later his features betrayed a sudden excitement and forgetting to bid leave, he strode away hastily, leaving Arwen standing alone - the single withering rose in a garden of color and bloom.  
  
The servant girl did not even see him coming and as the Prince himself appeared suddenly in front of her as if the result of some magic, she almost shrieked in surprised. The thing that spared her the shriek was the shock that took a hold of her tongue as Legolas looked her up and down from the front, and then proceeded to do the same from the back and from a few steps further, then having reached a conclusion, simply took her by the hand and began to pull her away from the garden.  
  
"Sire!" the girl yelped and sent the cutlery in her arms flying off in a loud clatter, to which the Prince was oblivious. "Sire!" she exclaimed again, unable to come with anything else.  
  
Legolas turned to look at her then, but did not slow his pace. "Forgive me. What is your name?"  
  
"I.....I...........Martan," she stammered, almost falling over her own feet at the speed.  
  
"Martan......" mused Legolas, "that is a beautiful name." The girl was too astonished to respond. "I need your help, Martan," he continued, dragging her with him towards another corridor, "it will not take long." The girl just clutched at her skirt with her free hand and followed obediently as fast as she could. The Prince took a look at her over his shoulder and she found herself completely swept away by his smile. "It shall be our secret," he said with a low voice.  
  
"Y-yes......Sire," she said with a whisper and ran faster.  
  
*******  
  
Irulan, on the other hand, was possessed with same childish glee, herself. No matter what she did, her mind seemed to have gained full independence and had no intentions of being told what to think, again. It remained in that darn forest. She scrubbed the floor, and thought of Legolas. She cooked lunch and thought of Legolas. She mended ripped garments and thought of him. To a point when she wanted to throw up her arms in frustration and curse it all. It was not whole-hearted, though. Not at all. For as annoying as it was, it was also immensely refreshing. Legolas shone like the only beacon of her incredibly dark and dull life. He was like the only light source in a long and tedious tunnel. Irulan knew that it was this light that had shown her with certainty that she had been in the dark all this time. And it was both elating and yet depressing - for now the walls seemed to move in on her even further.  
  
It is interesting how others can become agitated by seeing another in this state. Even though it did not affect them in the slightest, suddenly everyone in Irulan and Legolas' life was most annoyed at their state of bliss. Chemarit and Eowyn kept following her around, insisting that the Ball was not such a dreadful thing, that Irulan should grow up and accept it already (for they thought that her sudden disinterest in life itself was due to her inner frustration over the event). Her family, on the other hand, was on the verge of a fit, for no matter what they came up with, Irulan seemed to have slipped beyond the grasp and no torture had any effect on her. That darn happy smile of hers simply would not be wiped away!  
  
It became harder and harder for her to leave to the forest. As a matter of fact, the next day she could not leave at all. The second day came with slow torment, every moment of it filled with anxiety whether the Prince was angry that she had not shown up the day before or not, along with the anguish of not being able to go again. When the sun set that second day, it seemed to bleed over her own heart, and Irulan managed to hold back a sob only by using all her strength, which was not much left.  
  
As the moon rose, she stole out of the house and made a run for it, knowing that Legolas would be gone by a long time now, but feeling the terrible need to go anyway. At least to get away from her misery. At least to find some sort of sanity in the madness that was her life. For that region of the forest had become suddenly her sanctuary.  
  
She ran in the dark, falling twice and cutting herself several times on the sharp edges of branches, but in her desperation, did neither care, nor feel. When she finally arrived, her sorrow that she had ran from seemed to have caught up with her anyway, for she could not help to start crying in the face of her miserable life. She had never felt so horrible before. And Irulan realized with sudden terror that she would feel always horrible from then on. For before, when she did not know better, her life was bearable. But now, she would be forced to live with the memory of Legolas and the light he had thrown over the blanket of darkness.  
  
Clutching the little piece of paper that she had written for the Prince to tell him that she was sorry not to have shown up before and that she doubted to find the time again, in the future, she wiped her tears and walked towards the tree they had sat underneath. At least he would find it tomorrow and know. Then he could stop coming, too. And then perhaps, and only perhaps, Irulan would start to forget. And everything would go back to as it was. And why the heck was that so painful a thought? With the knowledge that there was no one to hear her, she began to sob again and felt as if she was growing smaller by the moment. The moonlit forest was a dark shroud around her, looking rather creepy to be honest, but at that moment, she would not care if she came face to face with a giant spider.  
  
That was a lie.  
  
For when she heard a sound right behind her, Irulan almost died of sheer fear. She opened her mouth to shriek, but a hand enclosed upon it and muffled her cry. All stories tell of how people in such situations fight and struggle. All that, it seems, was pure fiction, for Irulan lost the ability to struggle instantly as such an unexpected threat took her wits away. She remained frozen and felt her conscious slipping away, deeper and deeper, her mind receding into some other place, the reality around her fading with the moment. It took her several moments to realize that someone was talking. And it took her several more moments to realize that said someone was talking to her, for she heard her own name and although having momentarily forgotten that it belonged to her, her mind grasped and held on to the familiarity of it and tried to return to the present.  
  
"Irulan!" it said urgently and a slight shake was performed on her shoulders. "Irulan, are you well? Say something!" it whispered with terror. Irulan blinked and tried to open her eyes that she had shut with all her might. It was not easy, but when she finally did, another -though much more pleasant- shock washed over her at the sight of Legolas. It was a state of perfect surprise and confusion.  
  
Legolas gently squeezed her shoulders and said her name again, and finally it dawned on her that indeed, this was no giant spider!  
  
She let out a long and shaky breath and tried to swallow with an incredibly dry throat. Her arms and legs shaking with weakness, she clutched at the front of his shirt and remained like that for several moments, trying to call her mind back. Legolas, on the other hand, was swiftly losing his own, at the thought of having scared her beyond measure and health. He encircled her waist and pulled her towards the stream that shone like a silver ribbon now, and forcing her to sit down, hastily dipped his hand into the cool water, then prodded it over her face, that seemed to be incredibly hot - from the running or the shock, he could not tell. So lost in his anxious action was he, that he was surprised to feel her hand finding his and stilling it. And he should be worried of her state, but at the sight of her hand on his, he simply remained breathless, everything else forgotten, as an incredible pleasure began to pulse through him.  
  
Several moments later he managed to tore his eyes away, feeling his fingers slip around hers and gaining a lose, but yet stronger hold, and locked eyes with Irulan, who was still heaving slightly, but seemed to be in a far more improved state. "Y-You......almost scared.......me........to.......d- death," she managed between deep gulps of air. Legolas gently squeezed her hand as a distant part of his brain scolded him for being lost in such sensations when she was still in this state.  
  
"As did you," he whispered, and it was a true effort.  
  
Irulan let out another long breath and took a look around. "Wha-what are you doing here, Legolas?"  
  
The elf did not answer for another moment. He seemed to be oddly........stupefied......or entranced. "I.......came for you," he said then, and again, it was an effort. Her fingers moved without her knowledge and by pure accident her thumb gently brushed his wrist. The touch sent an incredible wave of pleasure through Legolas, who bit down a gasp.  
  
"Did you WAIT?" she said, shocked.  
  
Legolas blinked and then gently shook his head. "Nay. I returned." Though it was the strangest thing to think at such a moment, Irulan suddenly thought how amazing he looked under the moonlight. "To leave you a note," he added a moment later.  
  
The words brought the thought of her own note and she realized that she had dropped it somewhere during her 'assault'. A soft chuckle rose from her, then, and she shook her head. "What is it?" said Legolas, finally finding it a little easier to speak. Irulan shook her head again and looked up. "I, too, came to leave you a note."  
  
He smiled with surprise then, and his fingers glided over hers in a gentle attempt of soothing. It was then that Irulan realized where her hand was and she slowly pulled it out of his, brushing her hair from her face and odd enough, feeling a ringing pang of regret at such an action.  
  
Legolas seemed to suddenly lose his breath with the loss of her touch and swallowed softly, not knowing what to do with himself. He pursed his lips, a part of him ashamed that he was showing such boldness, another part of him more than ready for further boldness. He looked up to see her expression, and his gaze fell on the teary look of her eyes and he remembered her sobs ringing through the night a few minutes ago. This time when his hand shot out to touch the corner of her eye, it was not an act of passion, but sincere concern. "You have been crying," he whispered in alarm. When she bit her bottom lip and did not answer, his worry deepened. "Why have you not come? Has something happened, Irulan?"  
  
"I tried to," she said, wiping the remnant of her tears away, "but......." The sentence ended with a frustrated sigh. "I may not get the chance to come again, Legolas," she said finally, surprised that she had actually managed to say it in once sentence.  
  
She heard a sharp intake of breath and when she looked up, there was an expression of clear fear and surprise on his face. "Why?" he whispered with urgency.  
  
Irulan felt like crying again with desperation and shrugged to suppress the feeling. "My duties......will not let me. I barely found the chance to come, now, and it is late night."  
  
Legolas relaxed beyond words at her statement. He had feared that he had been the reason for such a decision. His heart growing lighter again, he tried to establish eye contact with Irulan, who was watching the stream. "It does not matter," he said gently, "you are here now." At that, she looked up at him and he felt mesmerized by how dark her eyes seemed in such a moonlit setting instead of bright days. Irulan did not answer.  
  
"Will you come at night, then?" he continued, trying to put his brain at more useful tasks. A moment later he woke up from his daze and vehemently continued: "Forgive me! I can not believe I asked you for such a thing! You can not and you most certainly should not come through the woods at such an uncanny hour!" He swiftly looked her up and down, cursing himself for not having thought before of such a thing. Indeed, she seemed to have shallow cuts on her arms and neck, too faint to see in the darkness for any other eye, but his elven sight picked them out easily. One of it was on her left cheek - a sharp, pinkish line.  
  
Irulan followed his gaze and located the trace of her escapade with her fingers. "It is nothing," she smiled deftly, "just the mark of a branch."  
  
Legolas looked at her for a long moment, then lowered his gaze to resist the prominent urge to touch it, and trace the slight scratch with his own fingers. Though he would more than willingly engage in such an action, he feared her reaction to it. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to divert his thoughts from her. It was incredibly hard when she was so close.  
  
"I suppose I am a bad friend," Irulan said suddenly. The disappointment on his face only proved her fears - she was simply incapable of continuing this relationship.  
  
"Why is it that you are always at a loss of kind words when it comes to yourself?" Legolas said slowly, dropping his hand and focusing his gaze on her again. She blinked in surprise, then reached out to rip some grass, diverting her gaze.  
  
The elf watched her for a time. Then said "You are far more than a mere friend to me," with a low voice.  
  
Irulan looked up then, and if she had any sense in that head of hers at all, she would see in his eyes what he meant. As it was, she was not bestowed with such virtues. "I would like to come," she said in reply. "I mean, at night. It is a good idea."  
  
"I can not allow that," he said with a flat voice, taking in her condition with a slow gaze from head to toe. "You might injure yourself further next time. Or something worse might happen."  
  
She laughed lightly at that and his eyebrows rose in surprise. "And if I decide to come anyway? How would you hinder me from doing so?" She threw a bemused glance at his frown and taking pleasure from his lack of reply, continued: "Perhaps you would choose not join me."  
  
Legolas shook his head and smiled a beautiful smile. "Such a decision seems to be beyond my power."  
  
Irulan shifted slightly, finding their state too intimate with her returning senses and hoped that he would not see her blush in this darkness. Legolas, of course, understood why she was shifting so, and realized that his chance for further intimacy was lost to him now. He slowly rose to his feet and watched her get up herself, smoothing her skirt.  
  
"I also took the freedom to...aid you..in the matter of the Ball," he said a moment later, hoping that Irulan would not act harsh for some unthinkable reason.  
  
She froze in mid-action and looked up at him. Legolas motioned her to follow him and guided her to the tree of their former conversation. She remained at the edge of its shadow, knowing that she would not see anything in the darkness beyond and watched him walking to the bark of it the tree in perfect ease, as if it was day time, then picking up something and returning with it.  
  
Legolas held out the package to her while his heart refused to slow down. As ridiculous as it was, he felt in eager anticipation of her reaction to his gift, even though he had handed out gifts of far greater value many times before and never cared about the sincerity of the joy it brought.  
  
Irulan received the wrapped item tenderly, not knowing what else to do, and glancing one last time at the Prince, proceeded to open it. The soft feeling of it gave her a good idea about the nature of the present. And she was not mistaken. Even though the beauty of it surpassed her imagination by far. She pulled out the cream colored gown and her mouth fell open at the fineness of it and the artistic quality its creator had embedded into its work. Unknown to her, Legolas had ordered all other work to be delayed for the swift preparation of this piece of garment and thereby, caused quite an uproar in the palace. Since he had also warned the man of saying a single word on the matter, his majesty's personal tailor -who was now overwhelmed with preparing the gowns requested by higher circles- had been unable to explain the delay to the other ladies and had suffered quite a bit of spiritual and even physical injury for his dedication to the Prince.  
  
All her life Irulan had hated gowns. With fierce intensity. For they were more than horrible, uncomfortable pieces of clothing. They were a symbol of the things she had always detested. Such as wealth. Such as status. Such as outer beauty at the expense of inner grace. And how ironic it was that now that the finest of all gowns had ended up in HER coarse hands! She smiled a broken smile at the realization of that.  
  
"I knew not your preference in color. Or style. Or..all else," Legolas suddenly said with open anxiety, "and I knew not if you would think me bold to do such a thing. But...I meant..I meant to.." Irulan's smile grew broader with the stammering Prince before her.  
  
"It is perfect," she said softly, running her fingers over the soft fabric that was, no doubt, of elven making. "Perhaps too perfect for me."  
  
"It is only a gown," Legolas whispered then, the alarm in his voice fainter now. "Nothing more."  
  
Irulan looked up at him and her eyes swept over his skin that seemed to have its own dull glow under this light and his silver hair that fell like a silent waterfall over his shoulders. "If it were only a gown, I would not accept such an expensive gift, Legolas," she said, cocking her head to have a better look at him. "But..it is a symbol of kindness and friendship. And only for that, invaluable. I will feel distinguished to wear it - no matter what color or style....or else," she finished with an amused grin. Legolas let out a soft sigh of relief.  
  
"Besides," continued Irulan casually, "I think of it as a war attire..an armor, really." At the curious and bemused look of the Prince, she continued with equal coolness: "This Ball shall be my battlefield. And even though I stand a slim chance against a cunning enemy of this nature, if I but succeed in pretense, I know that my life might be spared."  
  
"I know mine won't," said Legolas dryly, thinking of hundreds of women and twice that many eyes looking at him without blinking.  
  
"Prince Legolas!" exclaimed Irulan with mock terror. "Surely this is not your sincere opinion about your potential future wives!"  
  
Legolas moaned despite himself and then laughed out at the sound that had an oddness to it, simply because it came from him. She laughed along, for the same reason. A short silence set in between them, then Irulan folded the garment with care and once again wrapped it with the coarser linen fabric.  
  
She looked at the package in her arms for another moment. She could not remember the last time she had received a gift, not to mention a gift of this value. And even though -from a worth point of view- it meant nothing to her, it was one of the kindest things ever done for her. By a man who barely knew her. And who had no need to impress her for any reason. She gently brushed her hand over it again and looked up to the elf. "I do not know what to say," she said with a quiet voice. "A simple 'thank you' seems to do no justice to the gratitude I feel."  
  
"It is nothing," whispered Legolas gently. "Think no more of it."  
  
Irulan sighed with relief, then and took another look around. "I have to go now." The sadness of her voice was lost, for she knew that she would see the Prince again, tomorrow night.  
  
Legolas nodded in silence and kept looking at her. "I will walk you home," he whispered, feeling a little shaken for no reason, as he always did in her presence.  
  
"What?!" at the echo of her voice after such gentle silence, Irulan gulped and hastily lowered it. "No....no need." The Prince just raised his eyebrows and kept looking down at her with a blank expression. "Please?" Irulan tried weakly, knowing too well that Legolas would never let her go back alone in this darkness. He shook his head and firmly crossed his arms over his chest. She threw a frustrated look around. She had known of course that it would come to this.  
  
"I never hear that horn of yours anymore," she said with irritation and began to walk in the direction of her house.  
  
Legolas chuckled beside her, walking in perfect silence. "Nor shall you ever again," he said in amusement.  
  
Irulan threw him a curious look. "What did you do?" she whispered with a certain degree of alarm.  
  
Legolas shrugged softly. "The usual, really," was his reply, "cut a few heads, whipped and tortured some...." he threw her a sidelong glance, "to make examples for others... 'tis a very tiresome thing to be a prince."  
  
Irulan shook her head with soft laughter. "And here I was, almost at the verge of pitying the Prince of Ithilien. Perhaps, Legolas, you will meet your match at this Ball."  
  
"Oh I think I already have," he whispered in amusement, feeling incredible joy at such a childish conversation.  
  
"Wait till you see me in a gown!" exclaimed Irulan. "I can be such a grave danger to public health."  
  
They both laughed and their laughter seemed to make the darkness of the forest grow a little lighter.  
  
Finally when she spotted the mansion from a distance, Irulan sat on a lone log to prolong their time together for a few more minutes and turned to face Legolas, who was sitting beside her, looking at the house. "How would your family feel if I paid you a visit?" he said suddenly.  
  
"What?! Don't ever do anything of that sort!" Irulan yelped a little too loud. The elf was taken aback by her reaction. She lowered her voice and tried to explain without the anxious edge. The idea of her family discovering about Legolas was not an easy thought to be calm about. "Legolas, though it might seem meaningless and improbable to you, believe me when I say that if they knew about you, my family would never let me see you again."  
  
Legolas' eyes widened with disbelief. "How so?" he said with a low voice.  
  
Irulan took a deep breath and turned towards the house again. "They are not very...fond of me," she said, thinking about how she never understood the reason for that resent, herself.  
  
"But, will you not join the Ball with.." he began.  
  
"They do not know I am attending. They would not allow such a thing," was her hasty reply. He kept looking at her with disbelieving eyes.  
  
"They would defy my invitation?" he said, a tinge of anger evident in his tone, now.  
  
"No," sighed Irulan, "but they would make it impossible for me to fulfill that invitation." A moment passed while he thought about her words. "And Legolas..." she said and turned to him, "don't ever think of marrying Vessun or Hetaire. It would be a terrible mistake."  
  
"I have no such intention for either," he said, his eyes focused on her.  
  
Irulan nodded and lowered her gaze, feeling her tiredness setting in on her.  
  
"It will be a long wait, till tomorrow night," Legolas said softly from beside her. She smiled despite herself, but refused to say anything. "I miss you terribly," he whispered then, amazed by his own confession, but feeling that since he had always so little time with her, he had to use it to the fullest.  
  
Irulan pursed her lips as shame pulsed in her again. Shame at the thought that even at this moment, she was deceiving him about her reasons concerning the Ball. "Perhaps," she began, thinking hard which words to choose, "it would be wiser for you to get used to my absence."  
  
Legolas' head shot up at that and the word "absence" rang in his mind over and over again. With a sudden realization it dawned on him that he was failing to even imagine such a state. Even though it was a perfectly normal thing to say on her behalf, she still could not shake the feeling that it was wrong to utter the words in his presence.  
  
The elf looked at her for a long moment, then swallowed softly. "It pains me to see that Ithilien has failed to make you happy, Irulan." Irulan looked away again. "But..." He said a moment later and she felt him brushing a strand of her hair away from her face, "I am no ordinary man. Perhaps I can change that."  
  
She met his eyes, and for the first time was not sure what exactly he meant by that. She sensed an underlying meaning to those simple and innocent words, and while a part of her was curios as to what that meaning was, another part of her was afraid beyond anything to discover it. In a matter of days, the Irulan who had insulted the Prince and had had no other thoughts about him than his very obvious and undeniable beauty of appearance, had found a confidant in him like no other. Legolas treated her so..different. As if she was of such importance and value. No one had ever treated her before like that and to this degree. She realized suddenly that it really did not matter whether he was the Prince or some pauper - as much as he craved for hers, she craved for his company. And even though a dark part of her was repeating over and over again that a friendship between such people was never made to last, she wanted to prove that part wrong. She wanted to show the world that, against all odds, two people could find a basis other than simple social principles to build something beautiful on.  
  
"Perhaps you can, Legolas," she said with a dreamy expression, lost in such thoughts. Legolas sighed softly and listened to the crickets chirping in the background. All he wanted to do at this moment was to take Irulan by the hand and drag her to his castle, so that he could keep her there for all eternity and protect her from anything and anyone else. He glanced at her house, that was shrouded in darkness, and found it surprisingly similar to his own dwelling - a place with walls that kept you apart from the rest of the world. Once again, the parallelism in the lives of seemingly so different people perplexed him.  
  
Irulan slowly rose to her feet and took a step back, towards her home. "Do not cross the forest by yourself, Irulan. I will be here to pick you up," he said with determination. Irulan gulped with sudden anxiety and involuntarily took a look over her shoulder to the mansion. "No worries," Legolas added gentler then, "they will not spot me." She nodded a moment later, and as painful as that was, took another step back.  
  
"Thank you, Legolas. For everything."  
  
He cocked his head then and looked her up and down for the last time. A peculiar smile overcame him. "Do not thank me yet. I am not finished by far," he said softly and then disappeared in the dark foliage with such ease, Irulan thought that she might have dreamt him up. 


	10. Dance of Emotions

".......and then she appeared right before me, and we almost collided again.......ha ha......." laughed Boromir weakly, his eyes gliding to the Prince again. "Anyway, I greeted the wom...-lady!" he said hastily, and continued without a pause, "I asked her.......about.......about......." he glanced again at the Prince, who stood by the large window overlooking the forest, his head turned away from him, his hair floating in the gentle breeze.  
  
Boromir glanced at Aragorn and received a shrug. "And well.....yes, so here I was, talking to her and........." At the persistence of the complete disinterest of the Prince, Boromir let out a frustrated sigh. "Prince Legolas!" he said with a growl. The Prince did not hear him. "SIRE!"  
  
Legolas blinked and turned to the men in the room. After a moment of frosty and silent confrontation he said "Yes?" with a tinge of confusion.  
  
Boromir almost rolled his eyes. "I was telling you that I met Lady Irulan in town."  
  
At that, Legolas' head snapped around again. His eyes were shrouded in curiosity and........ 'Alarm?' thought Aragorn with confusion, but decided to make judgment of it later. However, when he spoke, Legolas' voice was calm and dipped in disinterest. "Oh?"  
  
"Do you remember her, Sire?" Boromir said, relieved that he had finally managed to capture his attention - which was becoming a harder task by the day.  
  
"Yes. You ran into her, did you not?"  
  
Boromir pursed his lips and shot a dark look at the grinning Chief Advisor. "Actually it was more the other way around," he said, and then swiftly continued: "Anyway. I saw her in town. You will not believe this, but......she has actually changed her mind about the Ball! She will be attending, it seems!" he said with perfect enthusiasm. So perfect, it was downright suspicious. But Legolas' attention was elsewhere.  
  
He strode into the room, the breeze catching his hair and throwing it over his shoulders. "That is wonderful news!" he said with a deep smile. At that, both Boromir and Aragorn smiled back with sincerity. It felt immensely good to receive such a positive energy from the Prince.  
  
"It is!" said Boromir, happy at the turn of events and at the fact that since a long time now, the Prince seemed to be happy with them. Therefore, he delved into further elaboration: "As it so happens, I met her once again by that very tailor shop! She was exiting, and -allow me to say- unaware of her surroundings again..." Boromir simply HAD to stick that in. There..he already felt better. "...but this time, I was fast enough to stop, Sire. And she almost dropped the gown she had acquired from the shop, but alas, thanks to my reflexes, I caught it before it would be ruined and-"  
  
"She almost dropped a GOWN?" Legolas said suddenly and Boromir halted at his low voice to see the peculiar expression on the Prince's face.  
  
"I.......er.......yes?" he said slowly, a little shaken that his tale of heroic deed was cut off so abruptly and very confused about why that was.  
  
The Prince looked at him for so long, he shifted on his feet and threw a look at Aragorn, who was focused on Legolas, himself. "Perhaps it was not for herself," Legolas said finally and put on his mask of disinterest again.  
  
"No," said Boromir, eager to make his point, "it was for her. She told me so." He was even more confused why the elf's reaction to such a normal thing would be raised eyebrows and another mystified stare. "Well.......for the Ball, Highness!" he said finally, unable to come with something else.  
  
Legolas clasped his hands behind him and swept his gaze around the room, for the sake of doing something that would gain him time to think about the matter. "Judging from her appearance," he said a moment later with a calm voice, "I would not think her to have the resources for such a thing."  
  
"Well......." Boromir said a moment later, and then again....... "well......."  
  
"Did she not tell you that her family bought it for her, when she decided to attend the Ball, after all, First Captain?" cut in Aragorn's soft, but steely voice. He clenched his jaws and bore his eyes into the captain's to give Boromir a message and the other woke up at that. "Oh!" he said and pursed his lips, squinted his eyes and gently nodded his head, his gaze diverted to the window as if in an act of remembering. "Oh yes! How foolish of me to forget! Yes, she said so."  
  
"Her family?" came Legolas' now unmistakably confused tone of voice and both men blinked as an uneasiness of the strangest kind overcame them. They shared another swift glance as to why such a simple issue had made the Prince so suspicious and both felt a tinge of fear that he might be at the verge of discovering their plot.  
  
"Yes," Boromir almost whispered this time, his attention fixed on the blonde man. The other raised his head and looked him in the eye and such disbelief was in those blue eyes that Boromir almost blurted out the entire confession. His heart forgot to beat and he had to use all his strength to suppress that urge.  
  
They stared at each other for something like eternity, when finally Legolas diverted his gaze and, turning his back to his friends once more, resumed his stance by the window. His face, now well hidden from them, was a mask of puzzlement. He knew that Irulan's family would not do such a thing. And he also knew that she herself could not have afforded a gown. So..........Something at that news itched him terribly, but he failed to locate what that was. The fact that she would go to pick up a dress after his gift was nothing out of the ordinary. Most probably she had ordered said dress before and was forced to attain it anyway. But.........he shifted on his feet with unease. Who would buy such a dress for her, he wondered. 'It could be anyone. A relative. A friend. Anyone,' he told himself. But then......why would she lie about it, saying that it was her family? That terrible itch returned again and Legolas was sorting through the confusion, slowly reaching a very distasteful conclusion, when Aragorn spoke up, and broke his concentration.  
  
"Is something the matter, Sire?"  
  
The elf turned his face half-way to him, not wishing to show reveal his expression. "Nay. Nothing." He returned to gaze out, then. "I will be joining you and everyone else in the Meeting Hall, shortly."  
  
Both men looked at each other again, confused beyond words, for this was certainly not the reaction they had hoped to get from the Prince, and then unwillingly excused themselves to leave him alone.  
  
Legolas stood looking out into the forest for a while, trying to return to his thoughts on the matter, but he realized that he was unable to retrace the line of discovery he had caught a few minutes ago. Only that disturbing feeling had remained like an unexplainable dark spot in the corner of his vision, refusing to disappear. He sighed and turned to leave the room. Whatever it was, it would have to wait for later solving.  
  
*****  
  
"If Prince Legolas is not suspicious about our tale, I will personally go and kiss that Irulan woman!" hissed Boromir. For a moment, only the thunderous sound of their boots echoed in the hall while the thought rang through Boromir like a catastrophic earthquake, and he decided that it would be unwise to engage in a bet like that. "On second thought-" he began hastily, meaning to retrace his statement when Aragorn cut him off.  
  
"Something is wrong," he said, grinding his teeth, his eyes searching the corridor, lost in concentration. "Something is wrong about this whole thing. I KNOW it!"  
  
"Let me guess," the First Captain said with distaste, "how about EVERYTHING?!"  
  
Aragorn shook his head, completely ignoring him. "Legolas is behaving so strange. So mysterious......so distant." Boromir rolled his eyes at the discovery of the obvious. "As if he is......hiding something," Aragorn said, biting his lower lip.  
  
Boromir remained silent, knowing that it was always a good idea to let Aragorn think so. The man had an uncanny ability to think his way to the most unreachable facts. When he refused to talk any further, though, he itched to intervene. "You mean about the Ball?"  
  
Aragorn shook his head again in unease. "I do not KNOW, damn it!" he hissed after a moment's concentration. "It is there, but I can not put my finger on it. However, I would not be surprised if it involved the Ball, too. Even before we told him the news, his interest in the event had taken a drastic turn, you know that."  
  
"Do you think something has........befallen him?" Boromir said suddenly and gulped with anxiety.  
  
The other man looked at him in confusion. "Like what?"  
  
It was Boromir's turn to shake his head. "Like......like a spell or something. I mean, he is grim one day, as happy as I have never seen him before, the next. One moment he looks at me and I could swear that he means to kill me with those looks, the next instant he drowns Lord Haldir -HALDIR!- with compliments. He is always either in a trance or over- energetic, jogging around in the palace to oversee the preparations for the Ball up to the smallest detail. And he hardly sleeps."  
  
"How do you know that?" said Aragorn, his mind still wrestling with the dialogue between Boromir and the Prince from a few minutes ago.  
  
"I hear people saying how they spotted him walking around the palace at hours when he should be asleep. I questioned his guards, but you know how those guards of his are.......They stare at you with such utter silence, I almost believe that Legolas himself trains them in the art!"  
  
They remained silent for another moment, the only sound once again the clutter of their long strides.  
  
Finally Aragorn shook his head for the nth time. "I myself begin to wish the swiftest conclusion of this Ball. I have this eerie feeling that we will suffer much from it," he finished with a sigh.  
  
"MORE than we already do?" was the First Captain's disbelieving protest.  
  
The Ranger just looked ahead and plastered a smile on his face as they approached the Meeting Hall. "Much more, Boromir," were the final words exchanged between them.  
  
*****  
  
"Ta ta ta taaaaaaaa!" exclaimed Eowyn and Irulan turned around to take a look. She was expecting something surprising, no doubt, but not......so.......shocking! Remaining frozen and agape, Irulan observed Eowyn as she whirled in her gown of light green, that brought out a greenish hue in her eyes and matched her long blonde hair perfectly.  
  
"Eowyn," she began, then swallowed to find other words, "that I would EVER see you like this! You look........you look........"  
  
"Amazing, gorgeous, lovely and breath-taking?" said the other girl and waved her hand to dismiss the words, "Don't I always?"  
  
"No. Most of the time you look like a threat to life," Irulan said with a sheepish grin.  
  
"Same thing," was Eowyn's curt reply and Irulan shook her head, knowing that she could never match the other girl in such remarks. Her eyes swept over Eowyn's form once more. No doubt that she was beautiful. Hell, that would be an understatement. Eowyn was downright dazzling. Therefore, the fact that she did not care about her beauty at all, made her even more precious in Irulan's eyes.  
  
"Are you not going to try yours?" the blonde woman said, remaining on her feet, since sitting anywhere in this room would end up leaving stains on the gown for sure.  
  
"Mmmm........no," Irulan said with disinterest. "Later."  
  
"I want to see it on you!"  
  
Irulan rolled her eyes. "And most unfortunate for me, you will, Eowyn. More than once. I have other things to do right now."  
  
The silence that followed was not good. "Like what, exactly?"  
  
"Look, since you are not one, you would not understand, but human beings need rest and sleep."  
  
Eowyn simply narrowed her eyes and kept looking at Irulan without blinking. "Are you hiding something from me?" she said after a too long interval.  
  
"Oh yes! It is time to declare that I am no servant girl but a wizard in disguise! And at nights, I drop this false pretense and engage in all sorts of good and heroic deeds around the town!" Irulan snorted perhaps a little too loud. When her friend did not reply, she raised her eyes to meet the blue ones. "Look around you, Eowyn," she said, waving her arm in a mock gesture of introduction, "THIS, and only this is my life," she added bitterly.  
  
Eowyn stole a glance at Irulan's windowless basement room, refusing to light up against the soft glow of the candles spread around it. Her gaze swept over the broken single bed, the crooked shelves that held a couple of books, her garments stacked in a corner, because there was nothing to put them in. "I have to admit.......it looks pretty horrible."  
  
"Thank you for stating the obvious," was Irulan's dry reply.  
  
"But......it never mattered to you before," Eowyn suddenly said into the silence and it was so unexpected a statement, that Irulan felt herself blush against all her control. Good thing that the dim lighting covered it. She thought about Legolas and again that stab of pain lunged between her ribs like a sharp knife. Never before had she wished to be someone else. On the contrary, she had felt immense pride in NOT being one of those rich and yet heartless, beautiful and yet brainless women. And here she was, that very same Irulan, wishing -to her own utter horror and embarrassment- to be someone else. Anyone else. She wanted to be someone more.......presentable. Someone Legolas might see in a different way.  
  
The thought evoked such frustration and denial in her, Irulan jumped to her feet and turned her back to Eowyn. 'I am what I am. I ask for nobody's liking!' she hissed in her mind, knowing that it was true and yet not true and feeling incredibly shallow for the knowledge.  
  
"It matters not, Eowyn. I am only tired," she said with her back still turned.  
  
Eowyn sensed her mood, but wisely decided to pretend she did not. "Fine," was her reply. "Keep mine here, too, Irulan. I have nowhere to hide it," she said and began to undress again. Irulan listened to the swish of the fabric behind her as she stared into the flame of the candle, wondering how one could feel so happy and yet so unhappy at the very same time. She barely heard her friend leaving as once again silence and loneliness advanced upon her in the basement room that reflected her life as perfect as only a mirror could.  
  
*****  
  
She stumbled in the darkness and knew by the grip on her elbow that prevented her fall, that Legolas had come. She smiled in the dark and found her balance again, looking at the black shape of a man in front of her. "It was wise for us to meet this way," chimed his beautiful voice, "for you would have injured yourself for certain."  
  
"What are you talking about?" said Irulan with a grin, "I did that on purpose. I can walk through this forest with closed eyes, my friend!"  
  
Legolas chuckled and felt the delight of her presence seeping through his pores in the form of the purest of pleasures. "I will not ask for a demonstration of that statement," was all he said. He released her arm then and began to walk. Irulan immediately followed, afraid to lose him or to fall on her face. She was so concentrated on her task of stepping carefully, that she did not notice the Prince halting in front of her to choose an easier path amongst the crowded roots, and ran into his back.  
  
"I suppose that was on purpose, too?" Legolas said, and his voice betrayed his amusement.  
  
"Of course," was her dry reply. She continued to follow and as her eyes slowly accustomed to the darkness and the crowd of trees became less dense, she realized that Legolas wore a different garment, some sort of long hooded cloak today. As she stepped out into a small clearing and the bluish moonlight hit it, she felt amazed by its beauty - as she felt with all his other garments. Legolas waited until their eyes locked and then, smiled at her, feeling ecstatic by a simple thing like looking into her eyes again. "It has a purpose," he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers.  
  
"What does?" was her confused reply.  
  
"The cloak."  
  
Irulan blinked and tore her gaze away. "Oh," she said, trying to shake herself awake.  
  
"I have a surprise for you," she heard him say and looked up to see him turn around, resuming his walk.  
  
"Again?" was her first remark at that. "You are spoiling me, Legolas," she continued, already excited as to what the surprise might be. "I am getting terribly used to your presence in my life," she added with a sigh of sadness that did not escape his attention.  
  
At that, the elf slowly fell in step beside her. "There is no reason to give up on such a habit," he said a moment later. "I will always be here."  
  
Irulan bit her lip so she would not say "But I won't." And though it remained unspoken, it hung between them like a silent curse.  
  
Until Irulan saw the lone horse grazing in the clearing, ahead of them.  
  
"Wh-what is that?" she exclaimed suddenly in shock and fear.  
  
"I believe it to be a horse," was the man's bemused reply.  
  
"I know!" she shot back with a tinge of anger, then took another look at the animal and felt her insides trembling with the anticipation of what lay ahead of her. "I mean...why is it here?"  
  
"I thought that we might do something different tonight. And since it would take us too long to accomplish it, we will take advantage of Arod."  
  
"Arod?" Irulan croaked with anxiety.  
  
Legolas nodded softly, seeing her terror and failing to understand it. When the tense silence continued, he decided to intervene: "What is it, Irulan?"  
  
"I...I..I do not like horses!" she yelped with uncontrolled horror.  
  
The elf blinked in surprise and looked at her for a long moment, before he broke into a soft smile. "How can that be? They are very gentle beasts."  
  
"I don't care! I don't like them. I don't think I can ride, Legolas," she said, finally turning to him, desperation rising in her.  
  
He took a deep breath and gazed in Arod's direction, then back at her. "I assure you that he is well trained, Irulan. And you will not be alone; I will ride with you."  
  
Her attempts to come up with a reply proved to be futile as Irulan wished to reject Legolas with all her heart, but failed to do so under his gaze. If it had been any other man, she would have insisted with unbreakable determination. But she hated to disappoint Legolas. It was simply beyond her. A tremble shook her gently as she swallowed hard.  
  
Many minutes passed and finally Legolas, who was observing the degree of her reaction, spoke again. "However, I see now that the ride would be a needless burden on you. We shall do this some other time, then."  
  
"No!" Irulan exclaimed suddenly and finally found the courage to look up at his surprised expression. "No," she said with a lower voice and swallowed again, "I will ride."  
  
"But."  
  
"Don't!" she said with impatience and tried to breathe as her eyes beheld the grey mare again. "Just get me on that horse before I change my mind."  
  
The man remained frozen in indecision for another instant, then strode to the horse with long steps and Irulan followed, keeping her gaze on the ground. When they finally arrived, she found him looking down at her with doubt and she rolled her eyes, turning towards the animal that gave her a very annoyed glance. Alright now..it was..HUGE, damn it! Irulan paled again at the thought of sitting on top of this living, breathing and moving..THING and closed her eyes to gather her courage.  
  
"Irulan.." began Legolas once more, but she cut him off.  
  
"How do you get on this...thing?"  
  
At that, he decided not to question her again. "Put your right foot here, then swing yourself up, turn your body and sit on it. Then place your left foot on the other side. It is easy, really." When Irulan gave him a dubious look, the Prince took hold of Arod's reigns. "He will not move, go ahead."  
  
'The things I must endure! First the Ball, now this!' she thought in dismay and deciding that the faster, the better, Irulan grabbed the saddle, did as told and swung herself up, sitting on the saddle with such ease, that she was baffled by it, herself.  
  
She looked down at a smiling Legolas. "If I had not witnessed your fear, I would have thought you are mocking me, Irulan. You did well."  
  
She nodded silently, then, despite her prevailing terror, stubbornly croaked "What fear?!"  
  
Both broke into soft laughter at that, hers a little shaky, and a moment later, with a single fluid motion, Legolas was sitting behind her.  
  
And then her mind went blank as her sentiments took an unexpected and quite drastic turn. The elf slowly leaned in, his body a warm pulse behind hers, and began to whisper into her ear. "Forgive me," he said gently, holding the reigns while Irulan felt a never before experienced feeling roaring through her entire being, "I have forgotten that you fear no man, orc, or giant spider. Certainly someone like you would not fear a mere horse?"  
  
The humor was lost on Irulan, who was engaged in a far greater torment than keeping her end in a childish duel. For this was the first time Irulan felt passion. Not raw and harsh passion, but a slow and gentle one, that was nevertheless not kinder in its intensity. It was so simple a thing, Irulan marveled at how it never occurred to her before. Legolas was a man (an unbelievably handsome and attractive one, too) and Irulan was a woman. And how come all this time, she had felt elation, excitement, pleasure and joy at the sight and thought of him, but never this..this..fire?  
  
It seemed incredible that such a feeling could have evaded her for this long, because now that she did feel it, it proved to be far stronger than all her other sentiments concerning Legolas. Something changed in Irulan, then. Something in her system clicked and no matter how hard she tried to think of Legolas as merely a friend from then on, a very conscious part of her knew that she was lying. If she had been asked to describe him with one word earlier than this minute, terms such as "elf, prince, friend, confidant, ruler, royalty" would have occurred to her far sooner than the word "man". But that changed momentarily, and although her emotions were not clear as to how she felt about that, she knew with certainty that she felt SOMETHING about it. And it scared her even more than the horse underneath her.  
  
She shifted in unease and the elf, troubled by her silence and her moving so, spoke up: "Are you well, Irulan?"  
  
She vehemently shook her head, then. "I think I will fall," she mumbled, sounding distant.  
  
"You will not fall," he said softly. "Are you comfortable?"  
  
Irulan was only honest when she shook her head once more. And upon what followed after, she truly and deeply resented being so.  
  
Legolas delivered the reigns to a single hand and used the other one to embrace her waist and pull her closer to him with utmost care. And this time, he was unable to fool himself -as he usually did- that it was but a normal and innocent act. For even though it had, without doubt, its practical reasons, the fact that Legolas was burning to touch her for the longest time now, was a truth too bare to be denied. Yet, what he thought would bring relief and contentment, brought only a deeper and further hunger. For now that he had finally managed to touch her so and break the barrier that was lying stubbornly in the way of their intimacy, he knew with grim foresight that he would be unable to stop touching her for anything. That, instead of pulling back with the satisfaction of such an accomplishment, he would feel a driving fever to continue with the pursuit even stronger than before, because Irulan was like the finest wine - drinking her only inflamed his thirst further.  
  
Arod waited with utter patience as both his riders remained motionless for a time, lost in their new discoveries about themselves. Finally the elf, tired of wrestling his frantic heart and losing the battle, gently dug his feet into the horse and the animal broke into a soft trot. He felt Irulan tensing at the movement and strengthened his hold on her, thinking that the degree of excitement he felt at the moment was far too naïve for someone of his status and age. The thought, though did nothing to dampen his emotions. "Do not worry, Irulan," he whispered in an attempt to calm her, not knowing that such an act only provoked her further and that at that moment all her fear concerning horses was forgotten.  
  
The ride went on in tense silence and neither found the words to break it. And when it ended, none could decide whether it had been too long...or far too short. 


	11. All Good Things Come to an End

"Why did we come to the town?" Irulan said with puzzlement as Legolas glided down the saddle behind her. The cold night air hit her then and she convinced herself that this was the reason for the shiver that assaulted her body momentarily.  
  
"To visit it," was his reply and she looked down to see his arms raised towards her in an attempt to help her down.  
  
Only then did Irulan realize that now she would have to dismount...and by the looks of it that seemed to be more complicated than the mounting process. She bit her lip, thinking of how to do it, when Legolas spoke up: "Do not reverse your action, it may be too hard for you. Retrieve your left leg over Arod's leg and glide down. I will catch you."  
  
Irulan rolled her eyes at her obvious helplessness. She tried to do what the elf had said, but either way, it was a very difficult process, especially with a dress and Irulan almost fell head-down as she wriggled to accomplish the task without exposing her legs. Legolas, of course, caught her and steadied her. His hands rested a moment too long on her shoulders, and then he stepped away to pull another cloak from the saddle.  
  
"I forgot to give this to you earlier," he said with a low voice, his mind still caught in the pleasure of the ride, refusing to return to the present. "I hope you did not feel too cold?"  
  
"No," Irulan said slowly, feeling embarrassed to look into his eyes, and attempted to take the cloak from him. But Legolas swiftly evaded her grasp and moved to stand behind her, spreading the garment over her shoulders. She did not move as he adjusted it on her, his hands caressing her shoulders and arms in an attempt to smooth the fabric and bit down her emotions as they mercilessly tried to jump out of control again. 'Stop it, Irulan!' she scolded herself and swallowed softly. 'Are you now so desperate that you can not stand such an innocent touch of a man?'  
  
Good thing she did not know that it was not as innocent as she thought it to be.  
  
After what seemed like a long time later, his hands stopped and Irulan looked up when Legolas walked to stand before her again. She realized that there was a tense silence to him and hoped desperately that she had not done anything to be the reason for it. He looked up and around them, then and following his gaze, she finally realized their surroundings. They were in the outer skirts of the city, close to the stables where visitors would leave their mounts if they wished to move with more ease in the streets or rest for the night. The man returned his gaze to her and gave her an encouraging smile before he slid his hood over his head, hiding his features. "You are in no need for such measures," he said then, but Irulan grinned and pulled up her hood anyway.  
  
"I enjoy the excitement," was her reply from underneath it. Since he was taller than Irulan, it was easy for her to look up and see his smile at her words.  
  
"Let us go, then," the elf said and led Arod by the reigns to the nearest stable, handing him over to a stable boy and granting the boy with a few coins of gold. She realized then that the horse bore no sign of being the mount of the Prince - other than its obvious beauty and quality, of course. And neither did Legolas, for that matter. He had never worn garments that would indicate such when he met her in the forest, but today he seemed to have been even more careful in his choice of clothes.  
  
"Do you do this often?" Irulan asked as they turned a corner and slowly began to walk towards the center of the city.  
  
"Nay," Legolas said as he gazed ahead, "I always wanted to. But it seemed not too tempting a thing to do by myself."  
  
Irulan looked up at him and once more realized how lonely the elf really was. It was evident that Legolas was very eager and excited about this visit, no matter how simple and small thing it seemed. At that moment he turned and locked eyes with her and she felt caught by his unexpected gaze. "Do you?" he said softly, as the crowd around them became larger in number.  
  
Irulan shook her head. "I never did this before. Ever since my father died, that is. I am not allowed to leave the house at night." Her eyes swept about the street, filled with an ever-increasing clatter of all sorts of noises. The capital, it seemed, never really slept. Even though it was a city of elven making and incredibly beautiful in many aspects, it had grown enormously in time and the newer locations where the human population dwelt in ever greater number was incomparable to the heart of the city, where the palace lay. The darkness seemed to take away the coarseness of these districts and add a mystery to it. The torches flickering on both sides of the large streets gave out a warm orange glow, under which everything seemed to proceed exactly as it did during the day - even the market was still active and no less crowded.  
  
"Tell me about your family," Legolas said suddenly and broke her train of thought.  
  
Irulan remained perplexed for a moment, realizing that she had never done such a thing before. As a matter of fact, it had been many years since she had, herself, even thought about it. 'I have accepted my life far more than I thought I did,' she thought in silent bafflement. From the outside, though, she shrugged and diverted her gaze to the activities around her, again. "I never knew my mother. They say she died giving birth to me. Perhaps it is true. Perhaps it is a lie to torture me. I would not know," she said with a distant voice. It was astonishing how one could get used to even the greatest pains. For as she talked now, Irulan felt as if it was another's tale she was telling. "My father married Ingmar. At that time, she was a widow and had two daughters - my stepsisters." She looked up to see if he was listening, and of course he was, with utmost concentration, too. He nodded, meaning to say that he remembered Irulan mentioning them before, and she continued. "Then my father died. I think I was ten or so. So now...I live with Ingmar and my sisters."  
  
A silence set in as they turned another corner and started to walk deeper towards the marketplace.  
  
"You have no other relatives?"  
  
"I probably do. But I have not heard from any of them as long as I can remember."  
  
"Why did you say your family was not fond of you, Irulan?" he said gently, minimizing the distance between them as the crowd became denser.  
  
She shrugged again. "I do not know why, but they are."  
  
"What makes you say so?"  
  
At that, she had to laugh. She looked up at his confused expression. "Many things, Legolas." She left it at that, not wishing to go into detail. Irulan hated being pitied upon and certainly the last person she wanted her to pity, was the Prince. It was his respect she was aiming for, not his pity.  
  
Legolas pursed his lips at her silence. He thought of another way to approach the subject: "You have many duties at home?"  
  
"I do indeed!" was her exasperated statement. "So many, I have barely time for anything else!"  
  
"The duties of a daughter?" He said, even though he had had no such family life and failed to imagine what those would be.  
  
Irulan suddenly stopped and so did he. He retraced his steps back to her and stood gazing down at her. When she looked up and locked eyes with him, he was shocked to see the darkness in them. "I am no daughter, Legolas. Ingmar is not my mother."  
  
Taken aback by her reaction and feeling more than embarrassed to have invoked uneasiness in her, he swallowed softly. "I meant-"  
  
"I am no daughter," she said again and her voice was like steel. Legolas stood in silent alert, observing this new and different side of her. "I am a servant. That's all."  
  
"And a friend," he whispered then, not knowing where the words had come from but feeling anxious of the fact that he had made her upset. At that, Irulan blinked and the glaze in her eyes lifted. A smile spread on her lips, instantly relieving the man of his swiftly building troubles.  
  
"Yes, a friend," Irulan said softly, lost in the amazement of such unexpected words and suddenly feeling incredibly happy that she had been graced with the friendship of Legolas. Her recent and new uneasiness forgotten for the moment, Irulan reached out and held his hand, feeling in need of his support now more than ever.  
  
It was more than he expected. Far more. Legolas, shocked out of his wits momentarily, very slowly and gently glided his fingers around hers and locked hands with her, his eyes refusing to look away. A distant voice told him that they must be looking so ridiculous now - two hooded people standing in the middle of such a chaotic place, oblivious to the throng moving around them, holding hands. But that distant voice had lost its power over him for a long time, now.  
  
He felt an incredible feeling of gratitude sweeping through him. The gratitude of having her with him. She, who had taken his loneliness and erased it with such ease, that it was beyond his grasp how such a thing could be possible. 'Anything is possible for a goddess,' he thought then, and smiled at the thought. Her touch was what he had craved, and her touch was what he was granted now. And its effect was as mind-blowing as ever. But by now, Legolas had learned to enjoy the fire that burst through his veins at every contact with Irulan.  
  
The rest of the night was a blur of joy, warmth and excitement. The details were lost to him, which was a very unusual thing for his over-analyzing and observant elven mind. He remembered the marketplace and how they strode through it, inspecting many things with childish curiosity and tasting almost everything edible. Legolas was surprised by how different everything tasted from the very same fruits and vegetables at the palace. Perhaps it was the natural rawness, or perhaps it was just the effect Irulan had on him, but he found the flavor far more enjoyable. Irulan, on the other hand, knew not of an astounding number of fruits and sweets and Legolas took it upon himself to make her try everything and find out which ones she liked most. She warned him, saying that they would certainly get sick at this rate, but he waved the argument away and sprinted to yet another counter, pulling her along.  
  
They touched the silky carpets, made in lands Irulan had not even heard about; watched most strange and exotic animals gazing back from their cages; joined the group of people that assembled around the bards and storytellers to listen to their tales, most of which made Legolas cock his eyebrow in a very peculiar manner that berated his doubt. Especially the ones that concerned his own heroic deeds.  
  
"What?!" laughed Irulan as they departed with the later hours of the night, "You did not save those three maidens from the dragon?"  
  
"I most certainly did not," was his distasteful reply. "I have never killed and would not kill a dragon, in the first place. They are beautiful beasts."  
  
"Not even for a maiden?" teased Irulan, enjoying his mood. "Oh pardon me..I meant THREE maidens! With flowing gold hair and snow-white skin and dazzling blue eyes-"  
  
He groaned and Irulan laughed out loud. "What would a dragon do with such maidens anyway?" he said a moment later.  
  
"I do not know. You should tell ME," was her cheeky reply as they strode towards the stables, still refusing to unlock their hands. "And what about those seventy orcs you have slain in one night, all by yourself?"  
  
"It was more like twelve," he said, grinning himself with the pure pleasure of the wonderful night they had spent together.  
  
"Ah, you disappoint me, Prince of Ithilien," Irulan sighed. "I had such a..grander..image of you."  
  
"Alright then. Seventy it is. I barely survived!" he said in mock horror.  
  
Irulan laughed again and this time, Legolas joined her, pulling more coins for the stable boy who, at the sight of their approach, had already departed to bring Arod. At the glimpse of the horse, Irulan was silenced again. She shifted on her feet, thinking how strange a combination it was - the excitement at the thought of riding with Legolas mingled with the fear of riding in the first place. Realizing she had been swept away in her own thoughts, she looked up to find Legolas talking to the stable boy, who was more than happy about the extra coins. The boy then turned to her and motioned her to climb the box he had prepared to 'aid the lady in mounting the horse'. Irulan smiled and accept graciously, not wanting to make a fool of herself while there was one more person to witness. Once again, Legolas joined her, assuming his position and encircling her waist, even though this time she showed no anxiety like before, and before long, they were riding in a easy trot in the silence of the night, under the rich tapestry of stars.  
  
They laughed and talked on the way back, until the exhaustion of the excitement of the night began to claim Irulan. She felt a contentment washing over her along with the tiredness and felt unable to stop herself from leaning back further on Legolas, who accepted her with utmost pleasure, aware that perhaps he was embracing her a bit too intimate for a mere friend, but at the moment not caring at all. He slowed Arod further as she seemed to relax more and more, seemingly at the verge of sleep now. After all, she was only human and perhaps it was thoughtless of him to drag her around like that.  
  
"We should do this again, some time," Irulan murmured at that moment. Legolas chuckled despite himself.  
  
"Yes, we should. After the Ball," was his dreamy reply. And the word brought back the itch, and the itch brought back the memory.  
  
"Irulan," he said softly and watched her stir slightly, waking up. "Boromir told me about your meeting, today."  
  
She did not reply for a moment. Then said "Meeting?"  
  
"Yes," he said, a little entranced by the fact that she was leaning on him so. "At the town."  
  
"Oh," was all she said, but soon after that, she sat up again and he felt her tenseness. Indecisive whether he should let the issue go so that she would resume her former position or whether he should continue, he became quiet. "What did he say?" said Irulan, sounding far more awake, now.  
  
"That he met you in front of the tailor shop. When you were leaving.." He halted for another moment, then continued "With a gown."  
  
Another "Oh" from her. Legolas pursed his lips while a part of him insisted that he was being stupid and needlessly making her uncomfortable. And yet, another part of him found her reaction even more curious. It was that part that pushed him for further inquiry. "You told him..that it was from your family, he said. I was wondering what made you say that," he finished, feeling ashamed and curious at the same time.  
  
Irulan was more than wide awake now. She swallowed softly, cursing at the stupidity of those men. She knew that they were going to make up such a story to let him know that she was attending after all. But the coincidence of the situation was like a curse! But then..how would they know that she had been meeting Legolas and that he knew about her family and that he had already provided her with a gown? It was only fair for them to get caught at such a hideous act..but that would bring the downfall of everyone..including HERSELF!  
  
"Well..," she began, her brain going through options at an incredible speed. "Well.." she swallowed again. "You know how I feel about Boromir!" she yelped finally, feeling incredibly ashamed of lying to him so. "He...he questioned me like that and...I wanted to bring an end to it, so I just..lied,' she stammered. 'Just like you are doing now,' said her inner voice at that.  
  
Legolas nodded softly behind her. "I see," he said gently, wishing that she would lean back on him now. A silence followed and Irulan felt even worse at his demonstration of trust.  
  
At her tenseness, the elf suddenly felt that itch again, and sat up a little, himself. A horrible debate erupted in him and it was a strange feeling of dread that made him proceed, although it was not in his nature to be so. "Who bought it then?" he whispered. And he was more than ready to accept any -ANY- answer. Anything she would say would be the perfect answer, at that moment. Therefore, the silence she gave him was an utter shock, to say the least.  
  
Irulan waited a long time, in her head still cursing those men. Finally, not knowing what else to do, said "A friend."  
  
'You just called Aragorn your friend, Irulan,' said her amused inner voice and Irulan blistered with the idea.  
  
"Oh," was this time Legolas' reply.  
  
"It does not matter," she added with haste, feeling the beauty of the night melting into distaste and a sadness like no other claiming her heart at the realization of that. "I will not wear it. He meant to help m-"  
  
"HE?!" was Legolas' soft cry and even he himself was aware that it came out with a strange tinge to it. A fire ignited in him, then and it was the strangest fire, for at the same time, he felt his hands and feet growing cold.  
  
Irulan bit back a moan and massaged her face. All other feelings left her as she could only think 'It is only fitting that I should pay for my sins,' and feel a certain justice at the pain.  
  
"Who is this...friend, then?" Legolas whispered still caught in that strange fire, that seemed to grow in both heat and coolness.  
  
"Legolas, please," Irulan said, the day spoiled for her now for good. So much lying and deceit could never add up to something good. "Let us not talk any further about it."  
  
And at that, the elf realized what he was feeling. He was plainly, simply and utterly jealous. For a moment he remained baffled at the realization, for he had never felt jealous before. He had been in envy of many, yes. People great of mind, great of heart or people of great deeds. But jealousy....and it was certainly beyond any envy in its intensity. Unconsciously his grip on her grew stronger. 'How foolish of me to think that no other has seen her worth!' he thought then and it only served to make things worse, as the feeling threatened to completely engulf him with that thought. How he managed to stay calm, keep breathing and even talk after that, remained a miracle to Legolas.  
  
"As you wish," he heard himself saying, the words meaning nothing to him at the moment. He tried to find consolation in the fact that Irulan was with him now. Had been with him for days. Except for the days she had not been able to come and he would never believe her to lie, so he dismissed the idea of her spending time with another during those. The thought that this 'HE' might be mere friend, occurred to him then. But then...why such a reaction instead of a simple explanation?  
  
No mere friend, then.  
  
Legolas could have sworn that he felt dizzy at the realization of that. He had never been sick, for elves would not get sick, but at that moment he suspected to be the first elf ever to defy that.  
  
Irulan knew not what to say. Anything she said at this point would only thicken the plot further and she simply did not want to lie to Legolas anymore. So she remained silent, her conscious eating her like a beast, devouring her raw and inch by inch. By the time they had arrived to the same clearing, she was certain that she could never ever sleep in her entire life again - so disturbed was her piece of mind. To her utter dismay, the elf remained silent and for the first time, distant, lost in his own thoughts and Irulan had to use all her might not to come out and tell him everything, at this point careless enough to throw the deal along with her freedom away. If not for the fact that she would hurt Legolas further by revealing what kind of horrible people he was surrounded with (starting with herself!), she probably would have done so.  
  
They walked through the forest in silence and though she wanted to, Irulan did not hold his hand again. Their tense aura was very different from the one earlier tonight when they had departed from these same woods. Legolas remained standing close to the edge of the woods, looking towards her house, not seeing it. Irulan remained with him, not daring to break the silence and feeling more and more worthless by the moment.  
  
Finally it was Legolas who spoke up: "The hour is growing late. You should go," he said and he avoided looking at her, afraid that he would just grab her and kiss her out of sheer desperation. The fire burning in him seemed to grow further and further and he felt that if she did not leave now, he would put his thoughts into action, no matter what the consequences would be.  
  
"Alright," Irulan said, feeling her heart breaking at his distant tone of voice and once again thinking that she deserved far worse than that. "Good night, Legolas," she managed to whisper, then. "It was the best night of my life. Thank you." When he did not speak up, Irulan half ran and half walked down the slope, certain that Legolas hated her and that she would never see him again. And once again, as she had done perhaps countless times by now, she wished she had never met him, for the pain of loss was a greater price than she felt capable of paying.  
  
He remained on his spot until she disappeared in the house, cursing his cowardice for the missed chance. There was a line between being cautious and being downright idle. And tonight, Legolas was certain that he had crossed that line.  
  
He pinched the bridge of his nose, unable to move for another minute, then accepting his defeat, began the torturous task of walking back to Arod.  
  
"I am such a fool!" he hissed, patting the horse on the neck and looking in the direction where her house was. The animal neighed softly as if agreeing on that idea. Legolas looked up at him, then. "I should have kissed her, my friend," he said gently and watched Arod listening to his words with curious concentration. Sighing softly, Legolas hauled himself atop the horse and guided his mount towards the castle. "Well....we will certainly have to amend that grave mistake, don't you think?" he said with another caress on the neck, to which the horse, once more, neighed in agreement, before they rode off, soon disappearing amongst the trees. 


	12. The Battle for Love Begins

THERE IS A NEW CHAPTER BEFORE THIS!!!!  
  
There. That should be an obvious enough message. Since I had to replace the author's note chapter, ff.net did not show it as an update and I was afraid that some would proceed to read the chapter below before the last one. For that would cause holes in the context.  
  
Other than that, thank you once again, everyone! It is worth going even through the torture of fanfiction.net to hear your kind words.  
  
Omni, no, you are not over-analyzing. I gave the three Darma Druids intentionally the role of Irulan's stepmother and stepsisters. For it was reasonable that the three women who had tortured her most in life there should also be transformed into the three women who made life Hell for her in here. Thank you for noticing.  
  
I know the Ball is not here yet, but for the events to take shape during the Ball, I have to establish a lot BEFORE it. And it has to make sense and fit together. So...it takes time.  
  
*********************  
  
"Why did you have to elaborate so?" hissed Eomer with anger, "It was suffice to say that you met her and that she told you she would attend. This whole issue of the tailor shop an the gown and-"  
  
"How in the name of the Seven Districts could I know that he would react so? And why would he, anyway?" whispered Boromir back.  
  
Eomer took a deep breath and closing his eyes, suppressed the urge to kick the First Captain underneath the table. "It is not every day that we lie so to the Prince," he continued, his temper a bit more under control. "But I see no need in prolonging such an......embarrassing........act if we can avoid it."  
  
"In any case..........." said Boromir, a tad furious that this whole issue with Irulan had seemed so simple and innocent and had turned out to be incredibly complicated and frustrating, "you delivered the gowns, did you not?" To that, Eomer nodded only. "Good. Then there is not much left to do. We will sit and wait."  
  
"We need to let her know of this 'meeting' of yours. You would not want her to show surprise at the Ball, if the Prince chooses to bring it up in any fashion", the Second Captain said, taking another sip from his wine that tasted bitter tonight.  
  
"Why would he bring up such a detail of no use?"  
  
Eomer glanced at the Prince sitting towards his right and across him. "Anything is possible. I am tired of being surprised,' he said with a dry voice.  
  
Boromir sighed. "As am I." He, too, observed the blonde elf, who was sitting erect in his chair, his food untouched, the goblet of wine forgotten in his hand. "He seems to be even in a fouler temper today - if such a thing is possible at all."  
  
"No wonder," said Eomer softly, not looking at him anymore, but at the large number of distinguished guests that adorned the table, "with such company........."  
  
"Ah you elves think you know so much about love!" boomed suddenly the dwarf's abrasive voice across the table. As they had done many times before, all elves and even several humans winced to this assault on their ears.  
  
"Really now, Master Gimli," Haldir said with a cool voice, amused that he had managed to evoke such temper (although such a deed was not a great accomplishment with Gimli, who always seemed to be in a growling state), "you must admit that we have this talent in our nature. We are bestowed with it, from birth."  
  
"Then you admit that it is none of your doing but only a grace from the Valar?" the dwarf shot back.  
  
"I do not admit anything of the sort. For even though the seed is planted in us, it takes effort and sacrifice to grow the plant."  
  
"Such romantic words. And yet, such lack of sentiment!" grumbled the dwarf.  
  
"I, personally, think it is not a matter of dwarf or elf, but of man and woman," cut in Arwen's deep and husky voice like water to flame.  
  
Both men, along with the rest of the table turned to her. "Pray explain, my lady," Haldir said with one single raised eyebrow.  
  
Arwen smiled deftly and ran her gaze across the present company, her eyes resting on the Prince a little longer, as usual, and only then, continued: "It is my belief that men think very different in the matter than the female gender."  
  
"Exactly! As I have explained in my book," cut in Gimli with enthusiasm.  
  
"And," continued the woman, "perhaps it is because I am a woman, but......" she said and bit her lip, stealing another glance at the Prince, who seemed to be listening with a frown, "I believe us to be far more.......fragile and sensitive when it comes to love."  
  
"Quite the contrary," sounded Aragorn's voice suddenly further to her left. "It is my sad observation that women are bestowed with greater wit and calmness while we are but leaves, unable to do anything else but obey the wind that shakes our very being so." His eyes were set on the beautiful Rivendell elf, as she cocked her head and smiled that breath-taking smile of hers.  
  
"That too, is mentioned in my book!"  
  
"Everything aside," broke in Elrond with a cool methodic tone, "what I find most interesting is that you, Master Gimli, a hero, a war icon, a leader of your people - a man cursed with a brutal and violent life, have taken it upon yourself to teach Middle Earth about love."  
  
Haldir, along with a few other elves chuckled at that, but Gimli only proudly leaned back and taking a long gulp from his wine, said "That is precisely why I have written it. For I have discovered that war and love are not such different concepts."  
  
"If that were the case, I would expect all captains and kings well informed in the arts of love. Sadly, this seems not be the case," said Arwen softly, biting her lip and not looking up.  
  
"I find that debatable," said Aragorn and he too, did not look up as a mild anger and frustration bloomed on his face.  
  
"Nonsense!" broke in the dwarf again. "It is only a matter of realization. The minds of such men is set on war. If they but only see the parallelism between this task and love, they will instantly and quite easily master it, as well."  
  
"I would find an example interesting," said Legolas suddenly and the whole table froze in silence for a moment. One had to be blind not to see his current edgy mood, not to mention the difference he had presented as the Prince of Ithilien compared to former times. He had barely spoken at tonight's dinner and it was intimidating to know that he had been listening, nevertheless.  
  
"Ahem," began Gimli, in an attempt to break the silence, "of course. Give me an example to elaborate on, Prince Legolas."  
  
The Prince remained silent, playing with his goblet for a few moments. When he began to talk, his voice was cold and dangerous, at the same time. "Tell me how to conquer the heart of a woman who has already conquered your own." Gimli, along with the rest of the company, only managed to blink at such unexpected and seemingly sad words. "It seems a lost war, to me," the Prince added bitterly and drank from his wine, as all watched him in stillness, trying to understand his state and his words and whether something altogether different was meant by them. It was common in these dinners to talk seemingly common matters which were innocent enough on the surface, but had in fact underlying meanings that implied many faceted political opinions.  
  
"Well," Gimli began again, with a certain reluctance, "such is the way of love, dear Prince. In the end, just like war, even if you emerge victorious, you are at loss. It is inevitable, for one comes with the other."  
  
The Prince gave him a long look, and the dwarf decided to continue: "However, if it is the way of conquering a woman's heart you are asking, allow me to say that no harder and more perilous challenge was set before man. It is a tricky business - very bloody and violent at times, deceitful and suspiciously easy at others. For a woman is by far a better fighter than man."  
  
Lord Haldir laughed at that, but his amusement drowned when nobody joined him.  
  
"How so, Master Gimli?" Elrond asked with curiosity.  
  
Gimli merely shrugged and took another gulp. "She is......as Lord Haldir has said before.......bestowed so," he said, glancing at the Lothlorien elf, who was watching him with his cool blue gaze. "We men are forever cursed in our unending desire and need for the affection of a woman. It's denial to us, is like bleak death itself. But a woman can and will survive without love. Therefore, it is never a fair war."  
  
"And yet," broke in Legolas again, fixing his eyes on the dwarf, "you have not answered my question."  
  
"You of all people, Prince of Ithilien, should fear no defeat. For your skill in war is unmatched." The other representatives stirred at that, but remained wisely silent, knowing that indeed the elf was a magnificent leader and warrior. "What do you do in war, when you face evil resistance?"  
  
"I show no mercy and no hesitance," was the elf's swift reply and though his voice was cool and calm, his looks could have ignited a fire easily.  
  
"Exactly," said the dwarf then, more than a little taken aback by such an emotional display by an elf. Swallowing softly, and deciding to tread carefully, he continued: "So again, you must attack without relent, without a break, without indecision. Of course in this case, it is not brutality that I imply. On the contrary - an attack of kindness, gentleness and softness. However, never forget that at times, you might need more drastic measures and should not hold back if such a need arises."  
  
The Prince remained silent for a few moments, and the table waited along with him, not wishing to interrupt this interesting exchange. "What if said fortress is already under siege by another?" finally Legolas said slowly, his fingers absent-mindedly playing with the goblet, but his eyes fixed on the dwarf.  
  
"Ahhhh," was Gimli's reply as his eyes twinkled with enjoyment. "You are talking about the beast!"  
  
"What beast?" Elrond cut in smoothly.  
  
"The beast of jealousy!"  
  
Legolas did not answer and his elven face remained a perfect mask of blankness as he did not divert this gaze from the Lord of the Glittering Caves.  
  
Gimli enjoyed another gulp of wine before he resumed to answer: "How pitiful creatures we are in the face of such a force! How it eats our reason and devours our wits!" He chuckled before he concluded: "Jealousy, my friend Legolas, is a most dangerous thing. But it has its merits, of course."  
  
"Such as?" said one of the other guests - a representative of one of the Nine Tribes.  
  
"Well for one thing, it proves that you are at business on the right fortress!" guwaffed Gimli. "For who would feel jealous for something that holds no value, I ask you?"  
  
"But you have not told us the remedy, Master Gimli," Arwen said with that deep, husky voice of hers, and the bitterness in it was evident.  
  
"Well......" said the dwarf, amused at the amount of interest he was getting, "I don't know how elves solve such things-" and with that, he shot a sidelong glance at Haldir, who was inspecting him with a judging gaze, "- but my policy is simple and plain enough - elimination!" With that, he pounded his fist on the table, suddenly the warlord in him appearing.  
  
After the slight clatter of the cutlery had died down, Boromir spoke up: "Elimination? What exactly does that mean?"  
  
"It means exactly what it means," was the dwarf's sly reply. "There is no room for competition in the game of love. Just like a throne can not have two kings and be at peace, so the heart can have only one conqueror," he added matter-of-factly.  
  
"I find that a little-"  
  
"Raw? Brutal, Lord Haldir?" The dwarf leaned further towards him, his beady eyes glimmering with excitement. "Primitive?" he said with a rough whisper. "As I have said before, war is not a clean game. Neither is love. It is only for those who are willing to take drastic measures."  
  
"But what if this woman has already made up her mind and her heart is set for the other? Who are we to make such decisions on her behalf and mingle with Fate?" sounded Eomer's soothing voice, as he cocked his head, glancing at the dwarf, combing his fingers through his light beard. He did not see the look of suppressed horror Legolas gave him at that comment.  
  
"Set on another!" huffed the dwarf and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "If you were so willing to give your opponent the luxury of choice, you should have stayed away from the battlefield, in the first place! For war implies the desire and urge for victory. It is not a game that has certain rules. Oh, it is anything but!"  
  
"Do you mean to say that the woman has no say over her heart?" was Arwen's half amused and half surprised exclamation.  
  
"No one has a say over their hearts! Who can decide whom to love, anyway?" At that, the table fell silent suddenly. For it was only too true.  
  
"We are drifting, souls, Lady Arwen," Gimli continued, his voice suddenly gaining a sad and tired tinge to it while his eyes focused on the wine in his goblet. "To love, is a luxury like no other. It is only reserved for the distinguished. Our worlds collide and our hearts fall in someone's idle mercy. What can we do against that?" He waited for another moment. "I am a man of battle," he concluded and lifted his wine for another gulp, "but not of meaningless and fruitless battle. A battle for a heart, yes! A battle against Fate? Never!"  
  
Another silence as Legolas seemed to be fixed on the table, his eyes gazing beyond it while Aragorn dared a glance at Arwen and everyone else was too engaged in their own world of thoughts memories.  
  
"In any case," began Gimli again, his voice lighter than before, "I do not believe in competition in such matters, Prince Legolas. If one is not up for a fight, why go to conquer distant and strange lands, anyway? Stay in your own castle, then! What a meek, faded illusion of a man that would make! So tender, so fragile, so much in fear of listening to his heart! That is no MAN!" he boomed and once again the plates clang at the pound of his fist. "A man sees what he wants and he goes and gets it, damn it! For if he does not, another -a REAL man- will!"  
  
"I suppose this means that a REAL man is of a rather coarse and unvarnished nature," Haldir said coldly, taking in the appearance of the dwarf to make his point and to show that he did not agree with such measures.  
  
"Say what you will," Gimli said to that and shrugged dimly, "but let it be known that I would rather be coarse and share my life with another, than remain royal in utter loneliness."  
  
A hail of praise rose to that, dampening Legolas' inaudible whisper of "Indeed." He swiftly rose to his feet, pulling a perplexed and baffled crowd with him. "My dear guests! It is of late hour and unfortunately other things require my attention. I bid your excuse and hope to see you in the morrow." With that, he turned to leave, but then halted and returned to glance at Gimli.  
  
"Master Gimli, many battles I have fought with you and let it be known that seldom have I seen such skill on the field. And yet, you surprised me tonight by showing that you are in possession of other skills far surpassing your talent in war. I regret the lost time between us and hope that your stay for the Ball will give us further opportunity for conversation so that I might learn from your wisdom."  
  
Gimli, overjoyed by such praise, was beside himself and hastily bowed to the Prince. "And.........." added Legolas a little playfully, "I shall attain that book of yours as soon as possible. It seems to be the work of pure genius."  
  
With that, he turned and left the room, leaving an amazed crowd behind him.  
  
  
  
*****  
  
"I will not go," she said out loud, frustrated at her inner battle. 'I can not go and face the disappointment,' she added silently. 'He will not come, I know it. What is there to go?' Irulan remembered his cold and distant attitude from the day before and swallowed hard again. 'It is better this way. I'll just go to that damn Ball and then leave. I'll never see him again and it is for the better for both of us.'  
  
"Where will you not go?"  
  
Irulan jumped despite herself and clutched at the piece of cloth in her hands. "I was........I was just......."  
  
"Wherever it was," Ingmar said as she strode into the kitchen, "you were right. At this pace, you will be barely finished by midnight, Irulan," she scoffed as her gaze swept around.  
  
"Yes Ingmar," she said with obedience, diverting her gaze to the windows once again and scolding herself for being this careless. 'What if I had spoken his name aloud?!' she thought and almost paled at the thought.  
  
The old woman crossed her arms over her chest and observed Irulan for a few minutes, her spidery eyes taking in every detail. "You look different," she said finally.  
  
Irulan, who had forgotten that she was there in the first place, turned a surprised look in her direction. "Different?"  
  
"Yes......" Ingmar said, tapping a single finger on her lips as she continued her inspection. "More......vibrant."  
  
Irulan just gave her a confused look, then continued to wipe the windows. "The wonderful things one gains by cooking and cleaning!" she mumbled bitterly.  
  
Her stepmother kept looking at her with that most disturbing gaze for another moment, then narrowed her eyes to look at the view outside. "It is getting late. I will take my daughters to visit a friend in the neighboring town tonight. Chemarit will take us and we might remain for later hours. It is said that a woman of higher circles will attend as well. Someone who has actually spoken to Prince Legolas," she said flatly as her finger glided over one of the shelves and her face grew sour at the realization that there was no dust on it.  
  
"Really?" was Irulan's tense question.  
  
The old woman did not bother to reply. "Take all the pots and pans down to your room. I want them to be brushed, cleaned and polished."  
  
"What? I just did that last week! They are spotless!"  
  
Ingmar remained looking at her, her eyes as placid as a dark lake. Irulan gulped and continued her work. Then could not help herself from saying "Can I at least do it in the kitchen?"  
  
"No," the old woman said and proceeded to the door. "You know how much of a crowd and a stink that causes. Your room is the perfect place for it." With that, she strode out and left a steaming Irulan behind.  
  
"Well..........I had no other plans for tonight anyway!" she said with a bitter voice and resumed wiping the windows with a frantic energy.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Legolas strode back and forth and back among the trees to such a degree and with such impatient haste, that he had to stop as he began to feel nauseous. He walked over the edge of the forest, glancing at the mansion again. Tonight, it seemed to be in complete darkness and no sound emerged from it.  
  
Irulan was nowhere to be seen. Growing restless with the thought, he began to pace again, and then realizing what he was doing, halted once more. He walked over and sat on the log, his gaze sweeping over the house once more as his mind began the process of torture, anew.  
  
'She will not come,' it whispered, "she will never come again. It is over.' He closed his eyes as panic tried to overcome him and fought it back with all his might. 'You have made her upset, Legolas,' it continued then, 'good- bye Irulan. Good-bye forest walks and freedom and the warmness of another. Go back to your palace and weep, Prince of Ithilien.'  
  
At that, he jumped to his feet, blistering with fury and frustration. 'I will not go back! I will not give up on her!' he growled in silence. He had no intention of letting it end like that. He glanced at the mansion again. What if he just walked down there? If she would not come to him, then he should go to her - it was only understandable. Legolas took a few steps, then halted. Irulan had always been sensitive about her home and her family and it had been obvious that she did not want him to come. As a matter of fact, she had warned him of such an action just a few days ago. And yet... 'She said I can not visit,' he thought then. 'Very well. This is not a visit. I am merely checking on her.'  
  
'She does not want you to go, Legolas. She is done with you. She is worthy of a far better man. A REAL man,' it taunted him. And suddenly Legolas thought about the 'HE' who had bought her the gown and in his mind, Gimli's fist pounded on the table, and before he knew it, the elf found himself striding down the hill with grim determination.  
  
Even before he reached the mansion, he knew it was deserted. He had too much experience in these matters to err in such an analysis. Wondering where Irulan might have gone, he glanced at the old building with two stories and for a moment decided to return and leave. Then the thought of being this close to where she lived took a hold of him and out of sheer curiosity, he decided to walk around the house, to have a better look at it.  
  
He began a slow and silent stroll around the walls, his elven eyes not caring about the darkness. He glanced through the windows, at the rooms furnished with tasteful but old furniture. Everything seemed too...clean. Spotless to the smallest detail. The elf looked up to the second store, and thought about climbing up just to get a glimpse of her room, but then decided against it. The thought that the Prince of Ithilien was inspecting a house like some spy or thief, hit him then. This was most inappropriate. He would leave.  
  
Having reached the back of the House, he decided to complete his circle and then walk back up the hill, leaving the premises. Only when he turned the corner, he heard a noise and froze in his steps, waiting. After a few moments of utter silence, he decided that he had been wrong, or that it had been the wind or some wild animal, and took another step, when his ears picked it up again and instantly he recognized it to be Irulan's voice.  
  
Startled by such a discovery when he had been certain that the house was deserted, he remained listening and traced it along the wall to a small, wooden door at the side. He lay his hand on the door, listening to her distinctive tone of voice and remained like that for a moment. So she had not left anywhere, after all. That grim desperation rose in him at that thought. She had been here, and although her family was not present to hinder her from coming, she had refused to meet him. So it was true, she did not want to see him.  
  
The all-too familiar pain buried itself into his heart again. He rested his forehead on the door, listening to the words that were muffled beyond recognition and feeling weak with the need to see her. She seemed to be in a conversation but he heard no other voice. And then suddenly his eyes shot open at the thought that she might be in there with that.....friend of hers. Perhaps she was telling him something and he was only listening to her? He hastily took a step back from the door and regarded it with cold blue eyes. If so, it would be beyond improper for him to intervene, would it not?  
  
But such sound arguments fell on dead ears as the fire of jealousy took control of Legolas so swiftly, that he was unable to form a defense to it. A murderous side that he only knew to be existing in the battlefield woke in him, and the elf trembled with the rage it filled him. It was completely unlike an elf, unlike a prince, unlike a proud warrior and most certainly unlike the man Legolas was, but at that moment, he cared nothing for such objections. If he was in there, well it was certainly not for much longer. With that, Legolas opened the door and began a silent descend of the wooden steps, darker and swifter than any shadow.  
  
*****  
  
"By the love of Uroth!" Irulan yelped, comfortable in knowing that her family was not home tonight, and once more bit down the urge to throw the pan away in frustration. "I said enough!"  
  
Her inner voice remained silent at that and she dared a shaky breath of victory. Waiting another moment to see if it would pick up the argument again and noticing that it was still silent, she began to polish the pan again.  
  
'Coward,' it taunted her and Irulan jumped to her feet with burning anger.  
  
"I am no coward!" she yelled into the darkness and kicked the pots underneath her feet, and they went clanging into the darker corner of the room.  
  
'Coward, liar, hypocrite!' it yelled back at her.  
  
"One more word and I will kick this whole place into shreds!"  
  
"Who are you talking to?" Legolas said from his dark corner.  
  
"To you! Who else?!" she yelled back. And then halted in shock. She forgot to breathe as the elf glided out of the darkness and stood a few steps short of her, gazing around the room with an expression that she had never seen on him before. And it was not a nice one. Not at all.  
  
Irulan hastily took a step back. She swallowed and tried to talk, but no words came. Not only was this the very Legolas she had avoided tonight, but he was actually standing in HER room, looking like he was going to tear down the place with his bare hands! Irulan felt herself getting dizzy. This was the second time the elf had startled her so and it was simply not funny.  
  
Legolas, who had finished his inspection, and found no other, turned to gaze at her with puzzlement and realized that he had scared her speechless again. "Irulan," he began as gently as he could (urging his mind to cool down from the amazing fire that had taken hold of it) and approached her, but the woman took another step back, almost falling on some other pots. "Stop there!" she yelled as he remained frozen. After a few minutes of heavy breathing, during which Legolas observed her with worried eyes, his own expression softening and the scorn in his eyes fading, Irulan finally felt like she was gaining some of her wits.  
  
"Legolas!" she yelled then and the alarm in his expression increased even further at that tone.  
  
"Forgive me," he tried gently again, but was cut off once more.  
  
"What in the name of the Valar are you doing here?! HERE?! In my room?!"  
  
"You did not come. So I was worried and............in your ROOM?"  
  
Irulan clutched at her skirts and stepped even further back, feeling more comfortable in the darkness than the glow of candles, but knowing that this made little difference to the elf.  
  
Legolas took another long look around the room. It was a cellar, no doubt. But now he noticed the bed and the stack of dresses in the corner and the books on the shelves. "How..........how can this be your room?" he said in deep puzzlement. He glanced at her and she glided even further back, finally leaning against the wall.  
  
A long silence stretched between them and the only sound remained the hiss of the candles. Finally she spoke up and it was so soft, his elven hearing barely picked it up: "I live here."  
  
Legolas tried to look as expressionless as possible and fought back the urge to take yet another look around. The idea that anyone could be living in here seemed impossible. Especially someone like Irulan. HIS Irulan! He blinked and frowned at the thought, most surprised where that had come from. "It is........not......what I expected," he said with a whisper, trying not to say something to upset her even further.  
  
He was surprised to hear her chuckle at that - even though it was a nervous laugh. "I can imagine," she said then.  
  
"Why do you hide so?" he said finally, seeing her clearly enough, but anxious of the distance between them.  
  
Irulan looked away at that. "You should go, Legolas," she said with a tense voice, more than upset that he had seen her misery of a life.  
  
Legolas swallowed softly and remained rooted. "Nay. I will not go," he said finally and it surprised him more than it did Irulan.  
  
"W-What?" she managed a moment later.  
  
"I will not go," he said with a cooler tone and shifted on his feet. "I can see that I have made you upset. What my mistake was, I do not know," he said gently (although he knew exactly that it had been his prodding, but decided against bringing up the issue again). He thought about advancing on her, but she looked too afraid of him at the moment. "But I resent it. Please, forgive me."  
  
Irulan shook her head. "You made no mistake, Legolas."  
  
"Then why have you decided to deprive me of your company so?" he said with a tinge a desperation and against all odds, took a step towards her.  
  
Irulan, who was looking to the floor, did not see it. "It was I that made the mistake," she said then and looked up to lock eyes with him. Which felt odd, for she stood in complete darkness but the elf found her gaze easily enough. "Please go. You are embarrassing me," she said finally, looking away again.  
  
Legolas blinked in surprise and almost obeyed her wish. But his feet refused to move. He dared not walk out in fear that it would mean an end to things. He realized then that Gimli had been right - Irulan was a prize worth such shamelessness. So he relaxed and threw all thoughts of leaving out of his mind. He would stay and she just would have to accept that. "How so?" he said softly.  
  
Irulan rolled her eyes in irritation. "Legolas, you really amaze me!" she shot.  
  
"As do you, Irulan," he said gently and broke her temperamental outburst before it could build.  
  
She took a deep breath and tried again: "Look around you, Prince of Ithilien. What do you see?" she said and crossed her arms on her chest.  
  
The usage of his title was a burning slap, but Legolas ignored it. "I see you. Nothing else is of importance," he said, gently.  
  
"Will you behead me if I call you a fool?!" she moaned with frustration.  
  
"I might have to give it a thought," was his flat reply.  
  
At that unexpected statement she halted and looked at him only to find him breaking into a smile. Irulan shook her head again in disbelief. The elf was impossible! Gaining confidence from the fact that her temper was fading against all her struggles to keep it, Legolas took another step. "Irulan," he said slowly, half shrouded in darkness himself, now, "do I ever bring up the matter of my status when I am with you?"  
  
She looked at him, baffled. "No."  
  
"Do I ever tell of my identity? My title? Does the mention of my throne escape my lips?" Irulan shook her head in confusion. "Do I talk about this so-called 'gap' between us?" Another silent shake of the head. "Then why do you?" he said softly. Irulan just took in a sharp breath and pursed her lips. "Why do you insist to remind me so, when all I yearn for is to forget?"  
  
The woman massaged her face. "Legolas," she began, but got no further.  
  
"Why did you not come?"  
  
She shrugged. "I was told to polish all pans and pots."  
  
"Is that the sole reason?"  
  
She shifted uncomfortably, then looked away again. "No," she whispered. "I.......I thought you would not come again. I did not wish to come and see that happening with my own eyes."  
  
Legolas blinked in surprise. A long moment passed as he took another look at the room. Irulan was not who he thought she was. No, she was a far more miraculous being, for she was surviving a life like this. Along with all the emotions he was feeling for her already, a fierce protectiveness rang in him then. "But I did come," he said finally, locking eyes with her again and taking another step that brought him very close to her. He extended his hand then and waited for Irulan to see it in the darkness. She remained indecisive for a moment, then carefully took it and Legolas strengthened the grip, walking back and pulling her out into the glow of the candles.  
  
They remained like that for a moment, then she took her hand back and wiped it on her dress in sign of her discomfort. "I have to finish the polishing," she said softly. Legolas nodded and watched her sit on the chair in front of the heap of pots. Without hesitation he placed the pots in one of the wooden chests on the floor and turning it upside down, sat on it, next to Irulan.  
  
"What are you doing?!" she said in amazement and alarm.  
  
"Sitting," was his dry reply.  
  
"But..........but......," she stammered, "Legolas! You will get dirty in here!" The elf gave her a blank look. "And they may come back any moment!"  
  
"Do not worry. I can hear them from a safe distance and leave without being seen."  
  
Irulan remained agape at that. And Legolas just remained staring back, daring her to come out with another excuse.  
  
"Well........they would not come down here in fear of getting dirty anyway, but-"  
  
"Perfect! It is settled, then," he exclaimed and pulled out a pan for further inspection.  
  
"But......." began Irulan again, horrified of the idea of those women upstairs while the Prince was sitting on a box down here with her. On a BOX! The PRINCE! In this filthy basement!  
  
"This pan does not look well polished," he said, cutting her off.  
  
She blinked at his comment. "What are you talking about? It is almost glowing!" she said, irritated.  
  
Legolas held it to the candle. "Nay, Irulan. I think you have made a hasty job of it."  
  
"Give me that!" she said with anger and snatched it out of his hand. "It is polished. There!" she said, inspecting it herself.  
  
"I would do far better," he said in amusement, finding her expression downright beautiful.  
  
"Oh really? Let's see it then!" she blurted, and then instantly snatched the pan away so that Legolas would not take it away. "NO! I am sorry Legolas, that was..........I talked without thinking."  
  
The elf looked at her for another moment. "So you put me in my place again?" he said dryly, his eyes boring into hers.   
  
Irulan swallowed and felt herself breaking into sweat. "No....." she said with a weak voice, but decided that it was futile to come up with excuses at this point.  
  
"If not so, I think I can be allowed for a demonstration?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. Legolas was downright impossible. In all her right mind, she simply could not let the Prince of Ithilien polish pans and pots. It was impossible, period.   
  
"You still think of me as the Prince, don't you?" he said suddenly, surprising her. She thought about objecting, but suddenly felt like she had lied to him enough in these past two days. The man decided not to torture her any further and simply reached out to take a sponge from the top of another box, where all sorts of equipment lay. He motioned for Irulan to continue her work and very silently and with great intimidation she did so, gulping with anxiety. He watched her a few moments and then began to mimic her, casting glances at her work, then his and trying to master the art.  
  
"How was your day?" he said casually a few minutes later, as -to Irulan's demise- he truly seemed to pick up on the skill of polishing pots.  
  
"Horrible," she said, trying to shake off the tenseness. "What did YOU do today?" she said a moment later with a careful tone.  
  
"I had dinner with the guests."  
  
"Oh," Irulan said, casting him a sidelong glance. "You put too little varnish," she said then and poured some of the liquid onto his cloth.  
  
"Thank you," was his reply as he resumed his work, feeling unbelievably content and happy of sitting with her alone and doing something so unusual. It felt.......intimate and warm. "We talked about love."  
  
"Love?!" said Irulan, baffled.  
  
"Hmmm-mmm," said Legolas, inspecting his work with a dissatisfied look.  
  
"What did you talk?" she said with pure curiosity.  
  
"Well.....," began Legolas and thought where to begin.  
  
  
  
*****  
  
He took another look at her as she strode with him towards the top of the hill in the darkness. "You look tired."  
  
Irulan smiled and looked up at him. "It was a tiring day. Though I have to admit that you were of great help with the.....pots." A moment later she yelped "I STILL can't believe you did that, Legolas!"  
  
The elf chuckled with joy and inspected his hands, slight blots of varnish on them. "It was an interesting experience, really."  
  
"You know," Irulan said then, looking him up and down, "I never thought of you a person like that. I realize now that prejudice was very heavy in my sight."  
  
Legolas smiled warmly at that. "Does that mean that I turned out for the better?" he said with a soft tone.  
  
"Far better!" Irulan said and did not see the light that glowed in his eyes at that statement.  
  
"So you will join me tomorrow?"  
  
"I hope so," she said, involuntarily glancing back to the mansion.  
  
Legolas followed her gaze. "If I asked you now, Irulan, would you abandon this life and come with me?" he said suddenly. She blinked and looked up at him. The elf remained focused on her. "Come with me now. You do not have to go back there. This life is none for you," he said softly and briefly touched her hand.  
  
She stood silent for a long time and the man dared not break her thoughts. "It is too bold a thing to do for me," she said finally. "Here I am a servant. But what would I be in the castle?"  
  
At that Legolas just stared at her. "Anything you wish to be," he whispered finally.  
  
Irulan laughed. "I have no skills, Legolas! And though I think that it might be an improvement for me to be a servant there instead of here-"  
  
"You will be no servant there," he broke in, a little tense.  
  
"And live with your aid.......doing nothing?"  
  
"Fine. If you insist, you may stroll the gardens and enjoy the library and come with me to oversee the state of other cities and places."  
  
Irulan laughed, thinking that he was surely joking, not knowing that Legolas was dead serious. "I have to admit, it sounds kind of tempting," she said playfully. "Perhaps, when I see it at the Ball, I will agree," she chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief and resuming the climb.  
  
The elf bit his lip to suppress the urge of taking her hand and pulling her with him, against her protests. He did not want her to return to that.....dreadful.....place. As a matter of fact, he did not want her to leave his side at all. He sighed with desperation.  
  
Irulan looked up at him and felt that odd feeling, the deep fire again. If he were any other man, she was certain that she would have allowed herself bolder thoughts. But him being the Prince and an elf and simply the creature that he was...........she knew she had no chance with Legolas by a far shot. She should be glad that he was so interested in her friendship.  
  
Having arrived by the log again, they remained standing. Irulan shifted once......twice........then finally said "I'll see you tomorrow, then."  
  
"Yes," was his answer. He watched her turn away, happy that her feelings for him had changed for the better and finding himself already in anticipation of the coming day, when he sensed her return to his side and swiftly reach up to embrace him. If Legolas had been no elf, he certainly would have lost all control right there and then. And perhaps that would be a better thing to do. As it was, he just remained frozen, so shocked that he could not even embrace her back before she broke away again. But not before she placed a swift, childish kiss on his cheek.  
  
And then Irulan was gone. She ran down the hill, swiftly disappearing in the darkness, though his eyes followed her until she walked through the basement door. Legolas remained on his spot for a long time, unable to leave the premises for the simple fact that he wanted to be close to her. He sat on the log and thought and thought and thought and at the end, ended up with nothing. Many times he intended to walk down, walk into her room and kiss her. And then he would just lift her up and take her to the castle. Twice, he took a few steps, then losing heart, retraced them. He touched his cheek, stupefied by her act, stubbornly thinking that he, who had shared far more intimate acts with a woman, should be well beyond the effect of such a kiss, but failing to do so, anyway. An astonishing amount of time passed before he rose and left.  
  
As he was walking back in the shimmering mist of the earliest hours of the morning, through a tranquil forest, suddenly Master Gimli pounded that fist of his on the table with a massive force and right there and then the warrior side of Legolas decided that if this was war, he was determined to be victorious and conquer the fortress that was Irulan, until the sun rose on the final night of the Ball. 


	13. Confrontation With the Beast

Irulan dreamt about Legolas that night. She dreamt that they were walking through dark, tall stone corridors, lined with torches. It was as silent as a tomb and her soft footfalls were the only sound echoing in the dream, while Legolas walked beside her soundlessly. Even though she felt elated to have him with her, the walls frightened her and Irulan felt caged and depressed. They walked and walked as the corridor winded around and around, seemingly without end.  
  
"Would you not stay with me?" Legolas said finally as she once again thought about how depressing it was in here.  
  
"Would you not come with me?" she said to that, thinking that surely the elf needed to leave this place as much as she did.  
  
Legolas remained standing at that, and looked down at her. His eyes were so different in this light. There was sadness and pain in them, and yet also a blank determination that evaded her understanding. She waited for him to speak up, but he did not. Finally she shifted on her feet in unease and realized that the corridor had changed after all - it was splitting in two and Irulan looked into the dark ends of the two mirror images.  
  
"Where do we go?" she said, feeling very anxious now, for no reason at all. The darkness and the stagnant air, along with the silent gaze of the elf made her very uneasy.  
  
"Wherever we go, we can not part," he said then and she followed his gaze only to see that she was tied to him with silver shackles on her right wrist. Uttering a gasp she pulled and picked at it, while the elf regarded her in silence. It would not let go! She felt the metal biting into her wrist, scratching it and hurting her.  
  
"Undo it!" she yelped in frustration.  
  
"I can not," he said slowly, "it is not of my doing."  
  
Irulan kept pulling at the shackles hard enough for them to finally cut into her flesh. Merely moments later the cuts swelled an ugly red before they began to bleed ferociously. "Legolas!" she said, "Undo them! Now!"  
  
"It is too late, Irulan," was his quiet reply as he locked eyes with her. She almost shivered at the intensity of his gaze. "Too late."  
  
Irulan woke with a start and unconsciously began to rub her wrists. She scrambled from her bed, past her usual time to begin the tiring day that lay ahead of her, but even though the sun was glaring in an impish and beautiful summer sky when she stepped out of the basement, she failed to shake off the dread and desperation that had descended on her.  
  
*****  
  
"Finally Her Majesty has arrived!" sighed Eowyn as she stepped into the clearing.  
  
Both Chemarit and the old man who was sitting across him looked up at that. "Irulan! What is that horrible expression on your face?" protested Chemarit.  
  
Irulan just kept walking toward them and waved her hand dismissively. "I am in no good mood today, Chemarit."  
  
"AGAIN!?" moaned Eowyn and Irulan just glared at her as she sank on the grass next to her.  
  
"You do not sleep well, do you?"  
  
"I sleep very well, thank you," Irulan snapped with a tense tone.  
  
Her friend regarded her with a long, dubious look. "If I didn't know better, I would say that something is eating you."  
  
"Yes and she is certainly most annoying."  
  
"You have dark circles under your eyes and look definitely exhausted. And...you lost some weight, you know?" the blonde girl continued, seemingly unaffected by her sourness.  
  
Irulan looked away. It was true, she had seen it in the mirror herself, today. The tiring marathon that her family was putting her through along with her nightly meetings with the Prince were taking their toll on her. She squinted her eyes and swept her gaze around the clearing, for the sake of leaving the comment unanswered. That action made her eyes collide with those of the old man, who removed the pipe from his mouth and grinned deftly.  
  
"Lady Irulan! What a pleasure to finally meet you! I have heard about you for too long now," he said and Irulan found herself amazed by this man. She swiftly looked him up and down to understand the reason for her sudden liking of him, but found no reason or indication for it. He wore a blue- grey robe and his pointed hat lay on the grass beside him, looking older than Middle Earth itself. A staff was leaning on the tree bark a few feet away and his long, unruly grey-white hair was mixed with his equally long beard. She looked up to his twinkling blue eyes again, a slight frown on her face.  
  
The man patiently waited for her to finish the inspection, then replaced his pipe and continued his merry smoking. "You know mine, but I do not know your name," she said finally, still unable to shake the odd liking and trying very hard to sound cold and distant.  
  
"Ah, how rude of me!" he exclaimed as his blue gaze rested on her again. "I am getting old, no doubt! Gandalf is my name, dear friend."  
  
Irulan regarded him for another moment before she turned to Chemarit. "THIS is Gandalf?!"  
  
"Yes, the old goat himself! He has come to observe this Ball," groaned Chemarit in disinterest and gazed at the sky.  
  
"So Chemarit has mentioned me!"  
  
"Well of course!" Irulan said, now unable to keep the excitement from her voice. "He told me that you are a constant traveler. A wanderer of Middle Earth. That you have gone to many places and seen more than anyone else!"  
  
"Indeed, I have seen a lot," mused the old man, a smile on his lips. "Still, there is much more to see."  
  
Irulan groaned with glee at that. "I mean to travel too, you know," she said hastily and watched the man's eyes widen with amusement. "Yes! Perhaps in a few days' time, too," she added. "I have never been farther than two towns from here. Is Middle Earth really as big as they say it is?"  
  
"Oh, it is grand, my dear!"  
  
"I want to go everywhere!" Irulan yelled, beyond herself.  
  
Gandalf laughed out loud at that. "What a spirit!"  
  
Chemarit snickered. "Tell me about it! And Eowyn here was talking about how tired she looks!" He snickered again.  
  
Eowyn shook her head, smiling. "Not when it comes to dreaming, she is not."  
  
"Who is talking about dreaming! I will go, you know that."  
  
"Well, you still have the Ball before you. And since you might die from such an unusual act as socializing, you might end up not going, anyway."  
  
Irulan stuck out her tongue. Eowyn mimicked her. Chemarit and Gandalf shared a meaningful glance and decided silently to ignore the childish action.  
  
"So you will be attending the Ball, too?" Irulan asked, turning to their visitor once more.  
  
"It sounds interesting. Everyone is coming, it seems. Legolas must be frustrated beyond his wits!"  
  
Irulan looked away at the mention of his name, afraid that -though it made no sense at all- someone might, in a miraculous way see through her disguise. And indeed, Gandalf gave her an odd look, narrowing his eyes, but thankfully Eowyn spoke up at that moment: "Legolas? You forgot the title, I think, old man."  
  
The wanderer just chuckled. "He was merely an elfling when I first laid eyes on him and no matter what, when one sees a king so, it becomes impossible to see him as Your Highness. He will always remain Legolas to me, I'm afraid."  
  
"You know him that well?" asked Irulan, baffled and oddly alarmed. Gandalf gave her another inspecting look and only nodded to that. Feeling even more uneasy now, she looked away again and began to rip grass.  
  
"Irulan insulted him, you know."  
  
"Eowyn!"  
  
"What?" was the innocent response. "Is it not true?"  
  
"Oh my!" said Gandalf in amusement and mock shock. "How did THAT happen?"  
  
Irulan rolled her eyes and felt herself blushing despite all her control as Eowyn and Chemarit began to tell that dreadful tale again. No need to say that they exaggerated -as they did with each and every time- and Irulan had to intervene several times to say that no, the Prince had not chased her and no, he had not stammered when he gazed into her eyes and no, he had not insisted that she should visit him in the castle as soon as possible. Gandalf regarded her with a cocked head all the time and showed utmost interest in the tale. Finally, unable to take it any longer, she sprang to her feet, a sudden dislike taking replacing her admiration for the man, although her logic kept repeating that there was no way for him to sense something as far-fetched as her meetings with the Prince.  
  
"I have things to do!" she mumbled and not waiting for a reply, hastily walked away.  
  
All three remained staring after her. "She is acting so strange lately," murmured Eowyn, for the first time showing concern since Irulan's state was not changing as she had hoped it would. She turned to Chemarit who was watching the swaying branches above. "Did you hear me, Chemarit? She has become so strange."  
  
"I never noticed her becoming anything else in the first place" was the dreamy reply.  
  
"I mean it!"  
  
"So do I! It is the Ball, Eowyn."  
  
The girl did not say anything for a while. "What if it is something else?"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
She shrugged and looked towards the direction her friend had disappeared.  
  
"Perhaps it's her boyfriend," Gandalf said suddenly. Eowyn and Chemarit looked at each other and a moment later broke into a soft laughter.  
  
"She does not have a boyfriend, Gandalf," Chemarit chuckled.  
  
"Oh really?" He sucked a little on his pipe. "I could have sworn that she did."  
  
Chemarit shook his head as the grin spread on his face. "You are worse than me! Ever the romantic!"  
  
"No. You are the romantic," the man replied dryly, "I am the meddler, that's all."  
  
****  
  
Irulan climbed the hill with great effort and for a moment actually felt rather dizzy. She had not found the chance to rest the whole day as her stepmother mercilessly had her cleaning the bathroom, down to the finest detail. She felt her vision darken and told herself that it was only the darkness of the night, nothing else. But in her heart, she knew that Eowyn was right. She had begun to get sick with the effort and the tension and all the conspiracy as well. 'That darn Ball is going to be the end of me!' she thought in bitter desperation and afraid to fall on her face, sat on the ground to clear her vision again.  
  
She heard Legolas softly calling her name then and a moment later he was kneeling by her side. How he had appeared there so fast, was beyond her. He looked at her face with great suspicion, then leaned back a little, giving her an overall look. "Are you ill?". Legolas had no experience with illness, but had of course observed it on the humans around him. It remained a state of mysterious terror to him and made him extremely anxious because it was beyond his elven understanding and nature.  
  
"No," Irulan said and smiled softly, knowing that he could see her easily enough under the moonlight. "Just tired."  
  
The elf looked at her for a long dubious minute. "You seem thinner...and weaker every time I see you," was his late statement.  
  
"Oh don't start!" Irulan moaned, rolling her eyes, "I have been lectured about the very same thing today by another."  
  
"So it is true!"  
  
She shook her head again and proceeded to rise. "I am well. I have survived worse." Legolas was already on his feet, grasping her elbow and softly pulling her up. He fell in step beside her as they walked further into the woods and Irulan realized that he did not let go of her arm.  
  
"Though I am certain that you have, it is no reason to over-exert yourself so. Perhaps I should join you in your room from now on and...-"  
  
"NO!" The Prince blinked with surprise and turned to her, very slowly crossing his arms on his chest. "I...I don't like that room. I would prefer to be out here," she said finally. He could not argue with that, so he sighed and fell in step beside her again.  
  
"I am worried for you, Irulan. It is not right or just for you to live like this. I'm afraid I will not be able to keep myself from intervening, soon."  
  
"Intervening?" was her question, her tone reflecting her bafflement. The Prince nodded and kept his gaze ahead. Irulan could not help a loud gulp. "What exactly does that mean?"  
  
"It means that I will stride into your house, and take you back with me to the palace against your wish," was his cool answer.  
  
"What?! You dare not!" She felt terrified of such an option and yet at the same time also oddly excited.  
  
He gave her a long, cold look. "And who would stop me?" he said a moment later with a low voice. "Who would question me? Who would object?"  
  
"Well...I, for one, would!"  
  
Legolas chuckled at that. "Yes, and once again it would prove you only to be unique, I suppose," was his soft reply.  
  
Irulan did not speak for a while, then a grin crept up her face. She squinted her eyes to look into the distance and leisurely added: "Besides...I doubt that your wife would like that."  
  
"My wife?!" was the shocked exclamation as the elf almost missed a step.  
  
Irulan, overjoyed by his unusual shock and clumsiness, suppressed a laughter, and went on with disinterest. "Yes. The one you will marry after this Ball." It was amazing how with each meeting and each conversation they were becoming more comfortable around each other. Soon enough Irulan suspected that she would address him like she would address Chemarit, or Eowyn. And that was not even the horrible part! The horrible part was that the Prince would probably enjoy that immensely!  
  
Legolas exhaled bitterly and pinched the bridge of his nose, keeping silent. "Oh so now you don't object anymore!" was her amused observation. "I can see that the idea is growing on you, Legolas."  
  
The elf shrugged deftly and gave her a sidelong glance. "As a matter of fact, it is."  
  
Irulan offered him a sarcastic smirk. However, at the serious expression on his face, her amusement ended with a gasp of surprise and she remained looking at him agape. Finally Legolas returned her look with raised eyebrows. "What is it?" was his casual question.  
  
"You want to get married?!"  
  
"I never said the contrary," he said, his tone matter-of-fact.  
  
She realized that it was true - he had only complained about the Ball, never the marriage itself. And why did that make her feel so...itchy? "Fine," was her final comment as she tore her gaze away. "Do get married then. Big deal!"  
  
Legolas observed her for a few minutes and found her reaction most peculiar. She seemed rather disturbed by that news. And it made him incredibly happy. He dared not think that at the moment Irulan actually liked him the way he had so desperately begun to like her, but he realized that if he fought hard enough, she had it in her to do so.  
  
The Prince suddenly realized then that he had never really pursued a woman like this, before. Legolas was not naïve. Neither was he a fool. He was well aware of both his looks and his title and what the combination of those accomplished in the world around him. True, he was an elf and a royalty raised with incredibly good manners, so it had never occurred to him to use these things to his advantage - especially in relationships. But it did not mean that he was not aware of the number of women throwing themselves at his feet.  
  
And again, being an elf, it was only natural that -though he reveled in beauty and admired it- physical attractiveness was not important for him when it came to women. Or yet better said, his concepts of beauty and charm were quite different from what they were for his human counterparts. The reason for that being that elves had an unique gift of seeing beyond the surface of things. He glanced at Irulan again and understood that he enjoyed the pursuit more than anything. It brought something out in him...A different side that had not been evoked by anyone else, before.  
  
"Why do you object to such a union with so much fervor?" he said finally, his heart beating with joy at her grumpy expression.  
  
Irulan only shrugged. "A man can not understand it."  
  
"Perhaps I can?"  
  
"I doubt it," she said flatly, still not looking at him.  
  
"Please explain."  
  
"All right," she shot back and turned to him with hot fury, having waited for this opportunity and glad that he had insisted. "Because marriage is not to a woman what it is for a man, that's why!"  
  
Legolas kept staring down at her with those blank blue eyes. "What is it for a woman?" was the late question.  
  
"A cage," retorted Irulan curtly.  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"You heard me. I said 'cage'."  
  
A moment later she realized that he was not walking next to her anymore and turned around to find him standing a few feet behind, staring with disbelief. She pushed up her chin and clasped her hands behind her, staring right back. After many moments of cold confrontation Legolas finally growled "You can not seriously believe that."  
  
"Oh but I do."  
  
He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. "Explain!"  
  
Irulan momentarily flinched at the tone of command and for an instant remembered him to be the ruler of Ithilien. But with the discussion at hand, it was only temporary. For after all, he was also a man. "I told you that you would not understand," she said as casually as possible. "Men marry and gain a partner. Or a servant." She watched his eyes widen slightly at that and continued in a dismissive manner: "Women marry and gain a master. Or..." -a bitter smile followed- "a guard!"  
  
The Prince took a step towards her. "That is not true," he said with a low voice.  
  
"You know it is," was her growl of a response.  
  
He took another step and Irulan had to force herself to remain where she was, even though he looked quite dangerous at the moment.  
  
"You are generalizing. Prejudice again, Irulan?" he countered with slight amusement.  
  
"No. Observation," she said briskly and watched him slightly cock his head.  
  
"You may be right in some occasions. But do not speak for the whole male gender."  
  
"Show me an exception, then," was her defensive answer as she crossed her arms on her chest.  
  
Legolas looked at her for a long moment, and it was such a peculiar look that she began to feel uncomfortable. "I would not treat my wife so."  
  
Irulan, in expectation of that answer, huffed a sarcastic "Hah! Of course!"  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "You do not believe me," he said with a soft, surprised tone.  
  
"No offense, Legolas, but no man would accept that statement."  
  
The elf took another step towards her and this time Irulan DID step back, despite herself. "You are making unjust assumptions," was his final reply, his reaction perhaps too emotional for a matter like this.  
  
"Very well. Let me ask you a question then..." With that Irulan began to walk back and forth in a horizontal line in the soft, waist-high grass of the clearing as the elf remained in silent observation of her. "Let us assume you are married." She glanced at him and he pushed up his chin and nodded curtly. "And you love your wife very much."  
  
"Naturally. Since I have married her," was his dry intervention.  
  
Irulan ignored his statement. "You want to make her happy. Would you allow her to do whatever she wants?"  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"Aha!" she yelped with triumph. "So there are things that you would NOT allow!"  
  
"Well..." began Legolas, his tone slightly uneasy, "...I did not say that. I asked what those 'things' would be. It is a normal and fair question."  
  
Irulan gave him a sly and dubious look. "Let us assume then..." she began, and Legolas suddenly understood what Gimli meant when he said that women were far better fighters. Irulan looked downright dangerous at the moment. "...that she is a very free-spirited person." Another nod from Legolas.  
  
She halted momentarily. Now this was not a good example. Not good at all. She swallowed softly, realizing that unconsciously she had drifted into a tender area. And she did not want to give the elf the wrong impression. She bit her lower lip, growing a little anxious.  
  
"Yes?" he said when her hesitation continued for several moments.  
  
Her head jerked up at that nudge and she nervously smoothed her skirts, avoiding eye contact. "What was I saying?" She said with mock confusion, hoping that Legolas would not remember.  
  
But of course such a thing was impossible. "You were elaborating about my free-spirited wife," he said with a smile.  
  
"Oh...yes. Well...so she is!" she exhaled, fighting to lose the nervous tone in her voice and slowly succeeding in doing so. "She does not want to be tied down or anything. She wants to...well...do other things."  
  
The elf cocked his head in amusement. "Once again...such as?"  
  
"Such as..." began Irulan and shrugged casually, continuing to pace once more, "...you know...traveling...adventures, and things like that."  
  
"That is a very peculiar wife," Legolas laughed softly.  
  
The woman stopped in mid-track and gave him a furious look. He held her gaze and took another step towards her. "Yes, Irulan?" was his husky and amused question that made her shiver for no reason at all.  
  
"I'm trying to make a point here! It's only normal that I would not pick an ordinary example but someone like... like me! Simply because it is MY opinion on the matter and I am trying to prove you why *I* don't believe in marriage!" she burst. A moment later she congratulated herself. It made sense! In a weird way.  
  
Legolas pursed his lips and clasping his own hands behind him, said softly: "Yes, of course. Please continue." However, the twinkle in his eyes remained and for the first time since she had met him, Irulan felt the desire to stride over and choke him to death.  
  
"All right," she began again, then could not help herself from adding hastily: "But this someone is NOT me! It is just someone LIKE me."  
  
"Of course," was the matter-of-fact response and she urge to choke him only grew stronger at that. If she had known that Legolas was beyond himself with ecstasy, perhaps her fury would have been replaced by amazement and embarrassment.  
  
She took a deep breath and kept pacing. "So anyway...Would you allow her to go away on such adventures while you remained behind?"  
  
The Prince thought in silence for a moment. "Why can't we go together?"  
  
"Well you are busy being the king, that's why."  
  
"A queen would be busy, too."  
  
Irulan rolled her eyes. "Yes but she is free-spirited."  
  
"And I am not?"  
  
"Legolas!" He shrugged in all innocence, once again enjoying the childish debate with sharp and unparalleled pleasure. "Let us just presume that you can not go," she seethed.  
  
"Very well. In that case, yes, I would of course grant her such freedom. It is only natural."  
  
"You lie!"  
  
The elf blinked with surprise. He had not been called a liar too many times in his life. Especially in that tone. He crossed his arms across his chest again. "I do not," he said slowly, his tone both daring and careful. "But I suppose it is easier for you to say that than to accept the fact that you are mistaken about me."  
  
Irulan swallowed. She had just called the Ruler of the Seven Districts and the sole heir of the Nine Tribes a liar. He didn't want to be treated like a Prince, but her behavior was still VERY unbecoming. "Perhaps I am," she managed to say with a softer tone and Legolas nodded in satisfaction, thinking that the conversation had come to a conclusion and that he had convinced her that he was different from the image of a man in her mind. Feeling very happy and content with that, he attempted to close the distance between them and continue the walk that had been interrupted.  
  
"But..." she began then, and his feet froze, "...I am not finished yet." Her tone said the real torture was just beginning. He pursed his lips and once more pushing up his chin, waited for the next battle. 'This is far easier than I thought,' he mused silently. 'Probably she will ask me now if I will force my wife to do certain things or to be in a certain way!'  
  
Very confident in that assumption, he took a relaxed stance and boring his eyes into her, waited for the question. Irulan gave him one last long look, then began pacing again. This time, it was far slower and idle. "So you will allow her to go..." she mused and gave him a sidelong glance, observing the cool posture of the Prince, "...but what if she intends to go with another?"  
  
The question was so unexpected that Legolas only managed to blink in reply. An odd vortex appeared in his mind then, though he could not exactly understand why that was.  
  
"Another?" he said finally, his mind refusing to analyze with its usual sharpness. Irulan nodded with a smile. "What other?"  
  
"Ah you know,!" was her casual and dismissive sigh.  
  
His eyes narrowed at their own accord. "No, I do not. What other?"  
  
"Well...another person. A friend," was the reply, followed by a sly smile.  
  
That word had been rubbing Legolas the wrong way for a long time now. He clenched his jaws and tried to think straight. But his emotions would not allow him a clear logical process. "What kind of friend?" was the question. He was aware that he was tensing, but felt unable to relax nevertheless.  
  
"How many kinds of friends are there?" Irulan said with a tinge of exasperation. "Him and her have...-"  
  
"This friend is a MAN?!"  
  
She looked at him with bafflement and even the elf himself realized that his tone of voice was far too emotional for such a simple and innocent conversation. Only, in his mind, this conversation was swiftly becoming something far less than innocent.  
  
"Yes. So?"  
  
Legolas took a deep breath and looked away. All he wanted to do was to tell her that she had been right about anything and everything and end this conversation. For it was doing strange things to him and he was helpless in preventing it. Instead, though, other words flew out: "Nothing. Continue."  
  
"All right. Him and her...-"  
  
"Does he have feelings for my wife?!" he bolted suddenly, his tone laced with anger. After clear surprise settled on her features, he blinked and added, "For her, I mean."  
  
"Well..." Irulan began, a little puzzled. She looked up to the evening sky, thinking that maybe it was time to change the subject, for Legolas was reacting in such a strange way. It could be that he was reacting out of a past experience, for instance. She should be kind and mature and let it go. Taking advantage of a weakness like that was most unbecoming. Yes, she should definitely change the subject. "Well, yes," she finished, thinking that she was a woman after all and that women were cruel until the very last breath.  
  
The elf's eyes widened slightly at that and he unconsciously took a step towards her. "What kind of feelings?" he whispered with an edgy voice.  
  
Irulan shrugged again. "He likes her." Once again she thought of letting it go, then added: "A lot."  
  
The blue fire that set in on Legolas' gaze was certainly not what she expected. She swallowed softly as he fixed her for what seemed like eternity, then growled "He wants to go to...adventures with MY wife?" with a tone, frostier than any man could muster.  
  
Irulan only managed a dumbfounded nod in reply. Then, thinking that she should not push things too much further, hastily added "Yes but she...she is loyal to you, Legolas! She is trustworthy. This is your wife we are talking about here, for Heaven's sake! She would never...-"  
  
"No."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I said no. There is your answer. No." Legolas said, his chest aching with something unexplainably hot.  
  
"NO?!"  
  
"Precisely," was the elf's dry reply. "I forbid it."  
  
"You what?!"  
  
"Am I not being clear enough?" was his dangerous question.  
  
Irulan blinked with surprise and shock and a moment later found the strength to raise her voice: "You do not trust your OWN wife?"  
  
"I trust her completely. It is HIM that I do not trust. And for good reason too! What kind of 'friend' would engage in such a thing?!"  
  
"Oh so now *I* am not the one who is making general assumptions about the male gender!" Legolas had to fight with all his might to keep his mouth from dropping open. She was so....right! But that did not change the facts. Not a bit. "A little prejudiced, aren't we?" Irulan continued with slight amusement, although the humor of the situation was running dry.  
  
"As you have said before, it is more a result of observation," was his cool response.  
  
"So you will take that choice away from her..." she said slowly and with obvious disbelief, looking him up and down and wondering what was making him so sensitive about the issue. "What if she insists?!" was her sudden and louder addition.  
  
"She INSISTS?!"  
  
"Yes. She wants to go, period."  
  
"Then I shall eliminate this man!" Legolas said and his voice rang with such force that Irulan immediately decided to change the subject and never mention it again.  
  
"All right. Point taken. You are ri-...ELIMINATE him?" she said in amazement. "Whatever does that me-"  
  
"It means..." seethed the elf and began to stride towards her as Irulan became extremely uneasy and walked back timidly. "...that I shall erase him from this world so utterly, that none in Middle Earth will even remember a SINGLE thing about him!"  
  
A moment later he stood looming above her and as Irulan gazed up into the eyes of the elf, all rational thought deserted her. Suddenly she understood what the enemies of Ithilien saw right before they were killed. It was this...this creature. This force. She would not dare to define him as a mere man then - for something so powerful was emanating from Legolas, that just the sight of him would cause a wave of tremble around him. She had heard all about his skill at war and how he was ever victorious and unsurpassable. But until this minute, it had been a string of empty -and probably exaggerating- words. Who knew they were very, very true?  
  
"Does my wife have feelings for this man, too?" he said suddenly, and Irulan felt like she would faint from her effort to breathe. She gulped audibly and tried to move away, but her muscles refused to obey.  
  
"Does she?!" he shouted and she jumped despite herself.  
  
"Wha-Legolas! This is ridiculous!" She tried to move back again, but only managed a single step, which Legolas covered easily enough.  
  
"I have asked a simple question," he seethed. "Why won't you answer?"  
  
"No! For the love of the Valar, she does not!" she yelled, wishing to end this madness more than anything else.  
  
Legolas blinked and gave her a long look at her. So long, that Irulan felt her muscles ache from remaining so tensely in the same position. "That is...good to know," he whispered then, and his tone seemed softer. Although she had no intentions of trusting such a sign. She took another step back and only then managed a shaky breath.  
  
"Your wife, Legolas -whoever out-of-her-mind woman that will be- will probably JOIN you in his 'elimination'!" she yelped with a mixture of both fear and anger.  
  
He took a deep breath and remained silent for a long time as his senses whirled in a mad dance and the world seemed to shake with their intensity. In his entire life, he had never been engaged in any conversation or debate that had made him lose his control and calm. Not even Lord Haldir had managed to succeed in that! 'I am not invincible, after all,' he thought bitterly and looked up to a terrified Irulan who was watching him with narrowed eyes. "I am sorry. Please forgive me," was his quiet statement. "That was very...uncalled for."  
  
"I thought you had gone mad, Legolas!" Irulan managed to say, trying to shake off her terror.  
  
'Honestly, so did I,' he thought as he ran his hand through his hair with desperation. "Please say you do forgive me," he whispered again a moment later, and he could not remember ever begging for forgiveness like that. Of course he could not remember ever losing control like that, either. For the first time since he had set eyes on her, Legolas realized that, as much as she could be a supportive one, Irulan could also be an incredible hazardous factor in his life. Just like she was able to erase all his sadness and sorrow, if she chose to do so, she seemed to be very capable in erasing all his happiness and joy as well.  
  
And why would that...relieve him? Legolas remained still, feeling utterly confused and surprised of this odd emotion. Why would that -instead of making him feel weak and desperate- make him feel like, after all, he too, was slave to another, servant to a master and...lighter for it? Why, in the name of Valar, would he think that being at the whim of Irulan was so...ecstatic? Why was it not a disturbing and frightening idea that, as masses kneeled to him, he would kneel to her?!  
  
"There is nothing to forgive," she said, tryin to sound as casual as possible. She was aware of his discomfort and felt ashamed of having brought it upon him. A tense silence came between them while both Irulan and Legolas tried to analyze the strange mutation this elf was going through - without success. "You have been reading it, haven't you?" was her sudden question.  
  
Legolas looked up in surprise. "Reading what?" he said, a trifle disturbed.  
  
Irulan rolled her eyes. "Master Gimli's book of course!"  
  
"Well I..."  
  
"I knew it!"  
  
Legolas pushed up his chin and looked into the forest. "It is a good book."  
  
"Legolas, the book might be good but the timing is beyond horrible!" Irulan moaned. "I mean...right before the BALL, you read this...this war-cry of a book! And look what it does to you!"  
  
"What does it do to me?" retorted the elf, his tone cool and calm. When Irulan clenched her jaws and kept staring at him, he sighed in defeat. "I must admit that it is a little...provoking. However, that does not hinder its usefulness."  
  
She shook her head and turned around to resume her walk and the elf jogged to join her side. They did not speak again until they reached Arod, each wondering in silence what madness had taken hold of their hearts tonight, and neither knowing that it was the very same thing that made the universe pulsate with life.  
  
*** 


	14. Thunderstorm

"She did WHAT?"  
  
Legolas turned to look down at the dwarf walking beside him at that peculiar tone of voice. "She asked me if I would let my wife and her friend- "  
  
"See that is exactly why one should fear the female gender!" boomed Gimli and if there had been a table around, he would bang his fist on it. As it was, he only took an annoyed glance around the garden.  
  
"I'm afraid I acted harshly upon that question," the elf said a little bitterly.  
  
"Good!"  
  
The Prince looked down at him. "How can that be good? I have frightened her with my attitude."  
  
"Trust me, dear Prince, it is better to be the one to frighten than to be the one who is frightened." As Legolas thought about that statement, the dwarf continued: "I am afraid we might need to take some drastic measures."  
  
"What do you mean?" was the baffled reply.  
  
"I mean for her to bring up a question like that can only denote one thing: it is as we fear!" When the elf kept gazing at him with silence, at this point not sure if he really wanted to hear the rest or not, he added: "She DOES have a 'friend'!"  
  
At that, Legolas swallowed softly and this time stubbornly refused to be taunted by the heat that was once again blooming in him. He looked into the distance, at the beautiful flowers of the garden swaying in the summer breeze, but saw none of it. "Perhaps he is the one who has convinced her to come to the Ball, then," he whispered softly, but Gimli heard him.  
  
"It is very probable."  
  
At that, Legolas began to walk again, eager to shake off the feeling of desperation that had settled on his heart like a dark shadow on this lovely summer day. "Then why?!" he seethed, unable to keep from doing so, "Why does she taunt me so? Why does she allow me to slip into hopeful dreams?"  
  
Gimli sighed. "Does she really?" he said finally and waited for the elf to look down at him to continue: "From what you have told me, YOU are the one in pursuit, my friend. From the very beginning, she has only but tried to evade you. And if I am not mistaken, only accepted your friendship, nothing more. It may well be that she has never thought of you in a more intimate manner."  
  
"But she shares intimacy with this..friend...of hers?" Legolas spat, feeling the fire seeping through his defenses, no matter how hard he was trying to prevent it.  
  
Gimli just shrugged at that. The elf began to walk in long strides again and his friend jogged to keep up with him, letting him think the matter out.  
  
"If I but see him lay a single finger on her," he was hissing when the dwarf decided to intervene, after all.  
  
"We can not solve these things with violence. Given the choice, I would say just go ahead and hack him into little pieces. But in my experience, such an act only horrifies women and adds nothing to their admiration." He looked away for a moment, remembering how he had already tried out that option before and what results it had brought him.  
  
"But I can not let him.."  
  
"You most certainly can not!" agreed the warrior dwarf. "However, we must tread very careful, Prince Legolas. This Irulan woman seems to be a fine specimen of her gender - meaning overly clever and charming. We can strangle this friend of hers - but not while she is around to observe it! Frightening her is no problem - but if you actually demonstrate violence in front of her -meaning, more than a little pushing and punching around- she will shun from you for all times."  
  
Legolas nodded softly. "I am grateful that you are of such help to me in the matter, Master Gimli."  
  
The dwarf chuckled with pleasure. "Ah please! It is me who is honored to be of any help in the first place. It feels good to be needed. Especially by someone who seldom needs anything!" At the sad smile of the elf he added "Do not be afraid, Prince of Ithilien. We shall overcome this task with victory! The castle of Irulan will be in your hands before this Ball is over!"  
  
Gimli observed his old friend's face lightening up with the thought of that and was amazed by the sheer idea of Legolas -a.k.a., Legolas the Cold Prince, Legolas the Unshakable, Legolas the Conqueror Of All- falling for someone in the first place - and falling quite hard, too, by the looks of it. And what invaluable material this observation and mission would be for his second book! Grinning with delight, he motioned the Prince to follow, as they walked further into the deeper parts of the garden. "Let us lay out a battle plan, then........." he said as their voices were swept away by the summer breeze.  
  
*********  
  
"The Ball is tomorrow night," Irulan said as she ripped some more grass and watched the clouds above with a thoughtful expression.  
  
The elf lying next to her said nothing. For one thing, he was enjoying lying next to Irulan and watching the night sky far too much to intervene it. And secondly, he was well aware of that information and had nothing to add to it.  
  
Irulan sighed and ripped some more grass. Then some more. Then yelped in frustration "I think I should not go!"  
  
Before she could even blink, he was sitting upright, leaning in on her. He gazed down at her for a long time, then, with a very careful tone said "Say you do not mean it."  
  
Irulan sighed and looked away, but Legolas gently lay his palm on her cheek and forced her to look back, the action itself making him dizzy immediately. "Say you do not mean it, Irulan," he said, softer this time, as he regretfully took his hand back.  
  
"To be honest, I DO mean it, Legolas," she said and watched the worry in his face bloom to the fullest.  
  
"You can not go back now," he said with determination.  
  
"Says who?" was her reply, as she raised herself on her elbows and looked him in the eye.  
  
"Please," he whispered, "do not do this to me."  
  
Irulan rolled her eyes and pulling herself up, threw the grass between her fingers away, stubbornly resisting eye-contact with him.  
  
"It is only a stupid Ball, Legolas," she began.  
  
"Precisely!" he cut in. "It is foolish in every and any way. Except that you will attend. Please do not change your mind now." Irulan pursed her lips and remained focused on the distant trees as their leaves caught the silver moonlight, reflecting it like waves on the sea.  
  
She had finally come to the point where not going to the Ball was a solution to many things. For one thing, as the time drew nearer, she was terrified of the idea of going amongst those people. Twice now she had dreamt of herself as arriving there in that gorgeous gown, only to realize that it hid nothing of her identity as everyone stared at this ugly, dirty servant girl who dared to show herself in a place like that. Secondly, her feelings for Legolas were making it very hard to attend a bet like that now. The idea of his wish for her to come while she was doing it for such selfish reasons, was eating at her very heart. And least but not last, she did not want to go anyway. As amazing as it was, for the first time since her father had died, Irulan did not want to leave her miserable life and Ithilien. She wanted to stay and keep meeting Legolas. No matter how much the torture. Therefore, there was no reason for her to keep her end at that bet, anymore.  
  
"If you refuse to come, I shall cancel the Ball," Legolas said suddenly and he meant it down to the last word.  
  
"WHAT?!" Irulan managed to say after a whole minute of recovering from shock. The Prince gave her a blank look. "You can not do that!" she said, a tad to loud.  
  
"I can do anything I want," was his reply.  
  
"Your guests-"  
  
"Can go back where they came from."  
  
"The attendants, Legolas!"  
  
"I shall compensate the value of every gown, if that is the matter."  
  
"Wh-Legolas, do not be childish! All the preparations-"  
  
"Can be undone. I only did them because you would come. If you are not coming, they are pointless," he said with a cool voice, waving his arm in a dismissive gesture.  
  
Irulan opened and closed her mouth a few times. "You are out of your mind," she whispered then, now too baffled to realize what she was saying to her Majesty himself.  
  
"You will cancel ALL that, because a servant girl-" at the frosty look he gave her, Irulan retraced her words hastily "-because a single woman is not coming? Are you mad?!"  
  
"That single woman," he said with a low voice and leaned further towards her, which made her tilt back in unease, "is all that matters to me. I never cared for the Ball in the first place. I only look forward to it because it will give you the chance to come and see my home and me the chance to spend time with you anywhere else than a dark forest."  
  
Irulan looked at him for a long time, slightly shaking her head. "I know that you value my friendship. I really do. But this is a little.........too much," she finished, unable to come up with a better word to express her feelings.  
  
The elf pursed his lips and diverted his gaze, then, and the words burned into his heart. "Friendship," he thought bitterly, frustration pulsing through him, slashing his insides, "Is that all you will grant me, Irulan?" He looked back at her, and suddenly felt the need to utter the words to her. Enough with the caution and the patience and everything else! He wanted her, cursed be everything else! As ridiculous as it was, he felt like pounding his fist on wood with the thought and realized that Gimli's book was having quite an effect on him, indeed.  
  
But before he could go ahead and realize his wish, she spoke again: "Besides, I was thinking............perhaps we should not..........I mean we could, but maybe it would be wiser to..........you know........in case.........," she stopped, annoyed by her own stammering, then took a deep breath and blurted: "Maybe you should pretend you don't know me, tomorrow!"  
  
Legolas just blinked in surprise. When she looked up to lock eyes with him, he said "Whatever do you mean?" in a soft tone, laced with disbelief.  
  
"I mean," began Irulan again, "I mean no one else has to know, Legolas." She looked up at him, then. "It can be our secret. Ours alone."  
  
"WHAT exactly can be our secret, Irulan?" the elf said with a tinge of anger now, already getting an idea what it was she was hinting at.  
  
"Our friendship," she said, biting her lower lip. "No one else has to know, Legolas."  
  
He looked at her for a long moment, for the first time realizing that she was right. They could keep meeting in this or another fashion, and their lives would go on as it was. And he knew with certainty that this would be what most would advise him. Even in Ithilien - where prejudice against the relationship between an elf and a human was not as strange or abhorred as the rest of Middle Earth, the love between a prince and a servant was quite a daring thing.  
  
But then........Legolas was a daring person. He came from a long line of daring men and women who had founded a kingdom most in Middle Earth would only think of as a fable. He cared nothing for standards or rules or the possibles and probables. He was shaped by minds that had taught him, if his wishes did not fit the world, then it was high time to change the world.  
  
Feeling nervous at being inspected so, Irulan rose to her feet, too restless to remain sitting. Legolas mimicked her, taking in her anxious posture. They remained looking at each other as the world was instantly illuminated and the distant rumble of thunder along with a slight drizzle touched the forest, like a curtain of humidity, gently brushing against them. Legolas looked up to the gathering clouds, in deep contrast with the bright moonlit sky. "They will not last long," he murmured, gazing down at her again, "but let us seek shelter anyway."  
  
Irulan followed him closely into the denser parts of the forest. She looked up at Legolas' face, his elven skin that seemed to glow with a dull fairness in the shadows, his silver hair having gained a slight wave due to the humidity, falling from his head like a waterfall. The Prince noticed her looking and smiled down at her while pushing another branch aside to aid her passage. "What is it?" he said softly.  
  
"What will everyone THINK, Legolas!" she said finally, wishing she would sound more reasonable, but sounding only sad.  
  
"They are allowed to think what they want to," the Prince said, his own voice softening at her desperation, "as are we."  
  
"But what if they-"  
  
"They are allowed to THINK in any manner, Irulan. However, I shall not tolerate any ACT that will make you uncomfortable in the slightest. My invitation knows no class, age or race. I dare anyone to break it," the elf said with cold determination.  
  
"Legolas," she said then and halted, looking away to avoid his gaze, "I am afraid."  
  
He halted in front of her and kept a comfortable distance. "Whatever of?" he said gently.  
  
"Of this..this Ball. I thought I did not care...and Heaven knows I don't..but now..I fear..THEM," she said, meaning the masses of beautiful and rich people that would attend.  
  
The silence stretched on and on, until Irulan decided to try one last time: "I just...just..." she stammered, then sighed audibly and went on: "No one else needs to know, Legolas."  
  
"I do not understand," he said slowly, taking a small step towards her, but Irulan kept the distance between them and Legolas felt the rise of frustration.  
  
"I know you don't. It is because you are an elf. And a wonderful person. And THAT is the problem," Irulan said finally.  
  
"Problem?" repeated Legolas with a confused voice. Then a thought occurred to him, and he was baffled that he had not thought of it before. "You are not....fond..of elves?" He swallowed softly, waiting for her answer.  
  
Irulan shot an irritated glance at him. "I am VERY fond of elves!" She said tersely.  
  
"You are?" was his bemused reply.  
  
"However," Irulan said, ignoring him, "we -you and me- are very..different."  
  
"On the contrary, I think we are very similar," he said, taking another step towards her and observing with distaste that Irulan took one back, again.  
  
"No....I mean from a social status point of-"  
  
"I know what you mean, Irulan," Legolas said gently, "though I do not understand why you dwell on it so much. It means nothing to me."  
  
At his advance she stepped back again and to her own dread, felt her back running into a tree. Legolas used the chance and finally closed the distance between them, feeling instant relief at having succeeded with the difficult task. Irulan tried to dig herself into the tree and, needless to say, failed to do so. She could not look up and stubbornly looked into his chest that stood close enough for her to make out the intricate designs on the front of his cream colored shirt. She wriggled some more and finally Legolas spoke up, his husky tone of voice sending a chill through her.  
  
"Cease your struggle, Irulan."  
  
She stopped moving and swallowed softly, feeling immensely weak and afraid, though she had no idea why. She had been closer to men. Much closer. She had been intimate enough not to fear a simple a thing as standing like this. But her heart ignored her arguments and kept beating at a death rate.  
  
He moved in closer yet, until she could feel the coarse fabric of his outer tunic brushing against her own garment and someone cut off her air, refusing her breath. Legolas raised his right hand and gently touched her shoulder, slowly tracing the contour of her arm to her hand and feeling excited by the simple and innocent contact as he never had before. He knew that he was making her uncomfortable beyond words, and yet, just like he had backed her into a corner, a far grander power than himself had backed HIM in the corner as well, and he found himself incapable of stopping the action.  
  
Her skin felt vibrant beneath his touch, wet with the rain. When his hand reached hers, he gently and loosely enfolded it in his, refusing to let go. "Do not be afraid," he whispered, at this point completely lost in the sensation of being so close to her and not knowing what he was saying. He leaned in and lay his forehead against her head as she still would not look up and remained like that, letting the world go on without them, as the sound of the distant rain and their breathing remained the only thing in the world.  
  
A deep relief along with inexplicable fear surged through her and Irulan's other hand reached out almost on its own account and placed itself on the elf's heart, as if it knew exactly where it belonged. Legolas barely kept himself from gasping with surprise at the effect such a simple touch had on him, as the world swam around him and faded visibly and his heart resumed a frantic rhythm. He placed his other hand on hers and felt her begin to shiver lightly.  
  
And though he would wish to be the sole reason for that, he knew that the cool humid air had probably a stronger effect in the matter. Hesitating only for a moment with regret, he unwillingly let go of her and stepped back a little to take off his outer tunic. Irulan felt the stab of his absence, then, and almost followed him to lean in on him again. Realizing what she was about to do, though, quickly halted herself and remained unmoving, still unable to look up.  
  
A moment later Legolas' warm outer tunic enclosed her shoulders as his distinctive earthy and fresh smell settled on her. The man gently adjusted the garment on her, then placed his cool hands on her cheeks and this time it was inevitable for Irulan to look up. What she feared then, happened, for she fell under his spell. Those eyes certainly held a power like no other, for Irulan felt like they could make her do anything and that she would only feel glad to perform whatever they asked of her. She felt his fingers sliding towards her nape as Legolas never for a moment broke eye contact with her. They curved slightly down and found their way to her neck as Irulan involuntarily shivered again. Then they gently swayed out, pulling her hair from underneath the tunic and guiding it over it and finally caressing the dark locks against her shoulders.  
  
A moment passed between them, as they stood gazing into each other's eyes. Another flash of light charged at the woods as the slow and deep cracking sound of followed it. Perhaps it was a century. Or perhaps time had ceased to exist altogether, but after such a frozen state Legolas' hand found her cheek again and left a warm mark at the prolonged touch. And just when Irulan thought that this was it - that she would faint any moment, her emotions failing to handle the overload any moment now, suddenly the mist in the elf's eyes lifted. He blinked. Then he blinked again and with the slightest frown, his head rose up slowly as his concentration seemed to expand around them. He stood like that for a time and finally Irulan, trying to see his thoughts through his eyes and failing, whispered "What is it?"  
  
Legolas remained silent for another minute, then an unexpected smile lit up his features. He took her hand again and motioning her to be silent, began to lead her away from the tree. Irulan anxiously tried to listen, but no matter how hard she tried, she failed to hear any unusual sound. She tried to be as silent as possible in her march, but was no match for the elf, who moved almost as if he was only a soft breeze. After some running, ducking, lurking and some more running through the forest that still shook with the rumble and light of the storm, Legolas guided her into a band of bushes and crouched under their cover with her. Irulan swallowed in excitement, not knowing what to expect, but fearing the worse (such as Nazguls or something of that nature) was immensely surprised when the man gently moved the bush apart and motioned for her to take a look through the hole.  
  
First there was nothing. Then, with lazy grace, a stag marched into her view and Irulan held her breath in astonishment at the beauty of the creature. Never before had she seen a living stag from so up close and this beast was nothing like the dead carcasses she had spotted once or twice in marketplaces. If she did not know better, she would say that it was no stag at all, but a magical creature of far different nature. It remained right there, in her view as the hissing of the rain accompanied its silent feast on the leaves of the nearest bush. For some reason, she felt compelled to think that it was indeed no ordinary stag, but one that had arrived here with the storm, perhaps riding through the swelling clouds in the sky - some beast older than Middle Earth itself.  
  
With the fear of probably never setting eyes on such a sight again, she hungrily tried to see everything at once - the soft glimmer of its pelt, the horns that shot out of its head in a massive jumble, the slightly slanted and unbelievably beautiful black eyes...She did not notice that her hand found Legolas' knee and held on to it with the waves of excitement that were gently lapping through her. Legolas had to use all his control not to flinch with that action and scare the animal away. He took a long look at Irulan's profile, feeling lost in her beauty. He, too, felt enchanted by the strange atmosphere of the storm and the charge that was hanging in the very air. And maybe such a natural force was needed to compel him into action. Perhaps indeed the divine powers had set up this stage so that finally he would find his courage. Without releasing the branch he was holding he slowly leant in and, gently brushing away her hair, placed a kiss on her jawbone before he could think about it and change his mind.  
  
Irulan blinked with surprise, but did not turn immediately. The stag suddenly forgotten by both of them, continued chewing leaves. When she finally did turn, she was amazed at how close he was. As a matter of fact, he was practically pressed against her. Another rumble shook the woods and she felt the tremors fanning through her own body. An unconscious part of her felt the need to move away then, but Legolas was faster and he silently leant in and placed another kiss on the corner of her lips, his touch lasting a moment too long before he slowly pulled back again.  
  
Silence yet again. It seemed wrong to speak as nature around them was engaged in such an overwhelming symphony and the music was directed right at their very hearts. 'I should move away. Now. I should lean back. I should. No, really...I most definitely should,' she thought baffled beyond words, her eyes locked to his.  
  
When she tensed her muscles, indicating that she was about to move away, Legolas instantly knew he could not let her do that. He just could not. So he did something far more natural - he leaned in again and placed his lips on hers. Reason being abandoned for some time now, and rational thought completely forgotten, he kissed her and let go of such needless things like caution, patience, manners and care. And once he had done that, he was lost forever. "Let it be known that there is no more salvation for me," a distant part of him thought, "Let it be known that I delivered myself with my very own hands. That I burned my own bridges. That I chose my own end. Let it be known that Legolas is beyond rescue now and for all times, and that he has never made a wiser decision."  
  
The branch sprang back as his hand let go of it and instead, gently cupped Irulan's cheek and the stag, startled by that action, sprang away and disappeared in the shadows. But there was no one to notice such a departure.  
  
If granted a choice to freeze time and remain in the moment forever, this would be the one Legolas would pick without the slightest hesitation, without any trace of doubt. Not the moment masses knelt to him. Not the moment he led his armies into victory against evil. Not the moment he was surrounded with friends and family. Nor the minute he was hailed so loud that the heavens seemed to shake with the echo of it. Neither the instant when he was a mere child, running in vast valleys, as careless as any creature can be. No..it would be this one. The moment he tasted Irulan and his spirit touched hers. This very instant, when loneliness deserted him and lifted off his soul like a heavy, dark garment. When he knew with fierce certainty that he was not meant to stride the paths of life alone, in the agony of longing for another wanderer.  
  
She broke the kiss, but Legolas did not let her go, leaning his forehead on hers as the world swam and danced and shook and melted around him. If he had known that it would be like this, he would have held her and kissed her from the first moment they met. It was beyond anything he had experienced before - such ecstasy, that it could only be a gift from the Valar, a moment of divinity.  
  
"Legolas," managed Irulan finally, having not the slightest clue what she was feeling at the moment, only knowing that it was overpowering in its force, "we should not-"  
  
"Sssshhhhh," he said softly, wanting to inhale her essence and make her a part of himself.  
  
"But I-" Irulan began again, now slowly coming to her senses, breaking the ice that seemed to have numbed her beyond motion.  
  
'That's it!' thought Legolas when she spoke up again, 'She has asked for it.' And with that, he captured her lips again, surprising himself with how gentle he was in the face of the passion that was soaring in him. And once again, he could only feel regret for the wasted moments between them. The moments when he could have kissed her and feel this, but had walked away from the act in his foolishness and cowardice.  
  
He pressed further in on her and Irulan was forced to sit back on the soft moss of the forest floor, as her mind took another leap. It would be a mistake to say that she was shocked. For that would come later. Much later. For now she only realized that this was the moment Legolas shone in her mind exactly the way he always intended to shine and the way she had been unable to imagine him - without title, without past, without a name. For this moment only, he was a man who had captured her heart and her wits and her soul and her body and everything in between. She was not kissing the Prince of Ithilien, but a man of far greater importance and power.  
  
"Say you will come," he whispered finally, yet another dance of light bouncing around them for the blink of an eye as he felt lost beyond any return in this strange land that was Irulan. Then he softly kissed her again, unable to wait for an answer and not caring what it would be at the moment.  
  
"I..........." she began then, but he kissed her to silence. "I..." said Irulan and received another kiss from him. "I will," she finished finally, thinking deftly that at this rate, she will die sooner than the occasion anyway.  
  
Legolas pulled back a little to look into her eyes. He traced his thumb over her lower lip, then having no choice in the matter, leaned in to capture it with his lips and gently retrace the line with his tongue. The pleasure that ran through him was making him oblivious to any of his senses other than his sense of touch. He cared nothing for the world. "I have no intentions of keeping you a secret," he whispered then as his thumb traced her upper lip and once again his lips followed the laid path.  
  
The seduction overwhelmed Irulan like a giant tidal wave. It came and covered everything else. Suddenly there was nothing but the blue surface of the calm water, the sparkles of the sun as it hit it, the sharp scent of the ocean. She had been kissed before, yes, and therefore knew with utmost certainty that this was by no means a kiss. It would not fit the description, the feeling of it. It was more like.......like........a spell. A spell that rendered her incapable of anything else.  
  
Legolas traced the outline of her face with his finger, in his mind, marking it as his. It was his. Promised to him. And he would take it - claim it at any cost. His eyes turned cold as the thought of another penetrated his bliss yet again. It was like the curse of Mordor, it seemed - it refused to disappear and always found a way to remind the rest of the world of its presence.  
  
"All I ask for is a chance," he said softly, taking her hand and softly kissing her palm.  
  
She looked at him, trying very hard to concentrate and to understand his words. "What chance?" she managed finally, the sound of the rain soothing her spirit while Legolas was burning her soul and the combination doing strange things to her heart.  
  
"A chance like you would give any other," he whispered, kissing her palm again. "Say you will, Irulan."  
  
"I.........I am........so confused," she stammered, the world becoming a dream and a dream becoming the world to her.  
  
Legolas sighed and began playing with her fingers, his eyes focused on their intertwined hands. He did not care if there was another. He did not care if her heart was under claim. She was made for him and he was coming for her. Like his armies galloping over hills stained with the colors of sunrise, thundering their way into conquest, he was coming for her. "My mind and my heart are set, Irulan," he said and only then looked up to lock eyes with her. "It is too late," he added and the shadow of a forgotten dream flew over her, its dark wings brushing against her cheeks as the woods sighed with a gentle thunder. 


	15. Awakenings

'Irulan, you kissed Legolas,' said her inner voice again.  
  
'So I did,' was her dreamy answer. More the other way around, but still, they had kissed.  
  
'Wake up Irulan, you DID kiss Legolas.' Irulan only sighed and turned to lie on her other side on the bed. 'THE Prince. THE Ruler of Ithilien. KING of the Seven Districts. SIRE of the Nine Tribes. IRULAN ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND??!!"  
  
Fear overcame her then. It was, after all, something quite mind-blowing. 'HE kissed ME,' she said, almost defensive.  
  
'You allowed him. You let the PRINCE OF IHTIL-'  
  
'Alright, so I allowed him!' she said a little angry, turning on her other side again. 'Why would I stop him anyway? It felt.......beyond amazing. There is nothing wrong with a kiss.'  
  
'Depends on whom you kiss, I would say,' was the dry reply.  
  
She bit her lip and decided to lie on her back. At the thought of Legolas, that incredible warmness spread on her again and the butterflies began their mad dance once more. He had kissed her. Legolas! At this moment, Irulan did not care whether he really felt something more towards her or not. It might have been just the atmosphere.........an impulse. An act of instinct and passion, more than love or caring. It was possible........and perhaps also probable. But........she did not care. She did not care if the Prince was kissing women with far more ease of heart than most men did (though for some reason, his usual cold and distant manner would denote otherwise), or if he simply found her interesting because she was so different from the gorgeous and well-mannered ladies around him and if he had grown tired and bored by those. He DID kiss her and it had felt beyond anything........it had felt right.  
  
In the forest, during a thunderstorm, with the two of them together it had felt incredibly right.  
  
Only now she was in her dark room again and Legolas was not here to put the pink dust on everything and her accursed inner voice simply refused to let go. And here it felt..........dangerous.  
  
"Where is this going?" she said softly, her voice a faint whisper in the dark room.  
  
'Towards a damn cliff!' was the panicked reply. 'And if you remain on this cart, you will fall as well. You have to jump, Irulan. Wake up and jump off!'  
  
She turned on her side again. 'Why?!' she thought a whole minute later.  
  
If such a thing was possible at all, her inner voice actually sighed with frustration. 'Have you not been listening? I told you, you kissed the PRINCE!'  
  
'HE kissed ME,' she shot back.  
  
'That's even worse! The man is obviously under some spell!'  
  
'Sure. Give me the 'who do you think you are, servant girl?' dialogue now,' Irulan thought with hurt and dismay.  
  
'Don't be stupid!' it said. 'This is not about you. This is about Ithilien.'  
  
A dark fear gripped her heart, although there was no reason why that should happen. 'What the heck do you mean?' she said, her heart thumping faster and her breath coming out a little ragged.  
  
'Irulan, for once in your life, THINK! Answer your own question - where is this going?'  
  
'I don't know! I don't care! I like it exactly where it is,' she said with anger and dismay.  
  
'Then I assume that you will not go, after all,' her alter ego taunted and suddenly Irulan felt something dark gripping her heart. 'Then I assume for a few kisses and a warm embrace, you will throw away that freedom of yours, for which your very soul has longed so long now! Go ahead, Irulan, just stay here. During the day you can keep serving your family and during the night you can feel distinguished to kiss His Majesty. And behold - years pass by! Then what? Is that the life you want?'  
  
She sat up, speechless now. It certainly DID sound horrible. Even more horrible than her current life - for Irulan doubted that she could continue living like this and not wishing for more - more of his time. More of this life. And not getting that more would be pure torture. 'He........he said I can.........live in the......palace,' she whispered then, a lump quickly forming in her throat.  
  
'How very becoming! From one cage to another, Irulan. Yet I must admit..........that cage is far grander. Those walls are so far apart from each other, you might actually forget that you are surrounded by them! You can live another -and not less meaningless, mind you- life there, waiting for Legolas to finish his duties so that he can spend a few minutes with you. You are right - sounds just like something Irulan would LOVE to do!'  
  
Indeed........  
  
Irulan thought about a possible life in the castle. Her wasted days, living in the wait for another. A man who was stretching his limits even now, when he was spending only a few hours with her. A man who had duties that she could not insist for him to leave aside so that they could take a stroll together in the garden, or have dinner together once every now and then. Not to mention that the whole of Ithilien would be constantly watching her, observing her, judging her. Hell, she would perhaps never be able to walk in the street unnoticed, again. And then -and this was the most dreadful part of all- she would be surrounded by those.......LADIES.........forced to live with them.........live LIKE them...........be one of them!  
  
'Irulan,' her inner voice said a tad softer then, 'can you be happy like that?' She swallowed and even though it was ridiculous, shook her head as if there really WAS someone in the room she was conversing with. She sat completely up and leaned her back to the wall, gazing into the total darkness of the cellar room.  
  
"But," she said suddenly out loud, the tiniest of hopes twinkling in her, "perhaps he can come with me! He does not like his life. No, he is a prisoner, just like me! We can go and-"  
  
'Leave Ithilien to it's fate?' it interrupted and Irulan remained frozen. 'So, you two can stroll around in Middle Earth, having a good time, while this whole kingdom, so large in size and so complicated in nature, can wait for the next greedy ruler to come and claim it? No doubt THAT would not take long! What keeps the wolves away from the taunting prey they have been encircling, Irulan?'  
  
She did not answer for a while. Then her answer came with silent tears, gently oozing out of her eyes. 'Legolas,' she said.  
  
'What keeps millions alive, healthy, happy and free?'  
  
'Legolas,' she said, drawing up her knees and burying her head between them.  
  
'What stands in the way of destruction and invasion?'  
  
'Legolas.'  
  
'PRINCE Legolas, Irulan,' it corrected her, now having grown far softer in nature. 'Ithilien needs him.'  
  
It did not speak for several minutes, allowing her to cry, her sobs softly scraping the walls of the cellar, too quiet for anyone to hear. Finally it said 'If you stay, you will resent your decision. And you will hate him as the reason you made that decision. Eventually, you will, Irulan. It is only human. If he goes, even if he does not resent his decision, he will only grow weaker with the idea of having deserted so many to their bleak fate. A man like that can not live with himself in the face of what such carelessness can bring to so many. A man like that is in that position because he feels RESPONSIBLE for others. Because to sacrifice his life and his wishes for the sake of others, is in his nature. Will you deprive him of that, Irulan?'  
  
Irulan did not answer. She only kept crying.  
  
'Will you, Irulan? CAN you?'  
  
*************  
  
"I can and I WILL!" said Legolas with a dangerous tone and banged his fist on the wooden table in the room. To his own astonishment, it felt incredibly good to do so.  
  
Gimli squirmed a little on his seat, while the three standing men just remained exactly as they were, not moving a single hair.  
  
They stared at the Prince and he stared right back, the look in his elven eyes easily winning the staring contest.  
  
"Sire," whispered Boromir finally, then swallowed hard. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. "Sire," he tried with a shaking voice again, "I think you lost me."  
  
Legolas just diverted his whole focus on him then and Boromir regretted ever speaking up.  
  
"Where exactly have I lost you, First Captain?" he said calmly.  
  
"Ummmm...........after the part..........about how you.........know...........Irulan. Right at the very beginning, Sire."  
  
"LADY Irulan, Boromir," Legolas said with poisonous tone.  
  
The First Captain only managed to nod with haste at that.  
  
"Well, I have no time or patience for this. Aragorn and Eomer will re-tell you, then," the Prince said and turned his back to him in an attempt to sit at his desk.  
  
"Actually," began Eomer, gulping himself, "I.........I would like to hear it again, myself."  
  
"Exactly my feelings," moaned Aragorn and massaged his face that had gone pale beyond recognition, a mirror image of the faces of his two friends.  
  
Legolas, who had sat at his desk, leaned back on his chair and took a long look at the men in front of him. A part of him enjoyed their state far too much. So much that he would probably continue to torture them some more - too unfortunate that the last preparations for the Ball had to be completed, since it was only a few hours away, now.  
  
"I said," he began slowly, glancing at Gimli, who was watching the conversation with utmost concentration, "I know Lady Irulan. I have met her after the incident at the town. And I have talked to her and become to know her better." All three men gulped audibly.  
  
Under different circumstances he would have broken into laughter at their state, but a lot had changed in the palace. For the first time in his life, he had utmost control over them, instead of the other way around, and he was not about to give the reigns back. "She will attend the Ball tonight - as you, yourselves already know. I intend to spend my time with her. ALL my time. If you so much as appear with any silly errands..........." he said, and left it at that, thinking that it sounded more terrible if he left the punishment to their imagination.  
  
Which was very true, of course.  
  
"Sire........how.........did you meet her?" Eomer said, clasping his shaking hands behind his back to hide them from his view. Never in his entire career as the Second Captain had he felt so ashamed and afraid.  
  
"That is none of your concern, Eomer," Legolas said with a voice that forbid any further exploration in that area. The Second Captain, being the wise man he was, nodded his head in acceptance and did not speak again.  
  
"Any problems in understanding this much?"  
  
All three men shook their heads.  
  
"Very well. Now, I know her family will attend as well. That is, her two unmarried step-sisters. For reasons that are none of your business, they can not be allowed to see her. Therefore, gentlemen," he said, locking eyes first with Boromir, then Eomer, "I expect you to make sure of that. Is that clear?"  
  
A short silence. "Not really," said Boromir softly, then. When the Prince gave him an impatient look, he finally found his voice: "I mean......how do you want us to......shall we make them leave the palace?"  
  
"No, Boromir. In that case they will return home and might discover that Lady Irulan is not there now, would they not?" the Prince said with a tone that was slow and steady but managed to betray the impatience he was feeling, anyway. The man nodded his head with a frown. "You will make sure that they spend a wonderful time and never spot their step-sister. As to the how - well, I leave that to you. I would assume that all those preparations for the dance would be very useful at this stage." With that, Legolas diverted his gaze with disinterest and began to fumble through the parchments on his desk, reading the latest notes and news delivered to him about diverse matters.  
  
The men remained staring again, simply unable to wake up from the shock of these recent news. A long time passed as they remained glued to their ground, gently swaying with the dizziness that overcame them. The fear of Legolas having discovered their whole scheme began to vanish as the minutes dragged on and the Prince sat at his desk, reading and scribbling, not turning back at them again. For all three men knew with utmost certainty that if he knew, instead of sitting at his desk, he would be dragging them to his personal torture chamber. Which did not exist, but most probably Legolas would order one to be built immediately for that sole purpose.  
  
A slight relief gently brushed by them then, and they glanced at each other to make sure if each had reached the same conclusion. How the Prince knew Irulan and since exactly when and how well and all the other mind-boggling issues were impossible to understand and deduct at the moment. But amongst all this chaos, he had not found out about their 'little' part in the game and that definitely must have been a miracle performed by the Valar themselves.  
  
Under the light of that knowledge, everything else faded into the background. He did not know and they would not be tortured in some chamber, after all. Aragorn dared a slow exhale and exchanged glances with the two captains again. They, too, seemed to have gained a little color on their cheeks. They nodded at each other in silent understanding, then bid permission to leave and upon the elf's nod -without diverting his glance from the parchment in front of him- they silently and very gladly strode out from the room.  
  
After they left, Gimli began to chuckle. Legolas looked up with a frown from his reading, having forgotten the presence of another in the room.  
  
"Prince of Ithilien! You were made to be Prince of Middle Earth, no doubt!" the dwarf guwaffed.  
  
Legolas leaned back on his chair again and glanced at the door with a smile, his long fingers gently playing with the parchment.  
  
Gimli cocked his head as his gaze wandered over the beautiful features of the elf. "I have never seen an elf such as yourself, my friend Legolas. You have the fire of a man, the courage of a dwarf and the delicacy of an elf. Perhaps some day you will tell me how to be so?"  
  
The other man's smile widened. "It is simple. You have to rule Ithilien, Gimli."  
  
The dwarf laughed again, shaking his head. When his laughter died, he smiled slyly. "So.........she is coming. Finally I will meet this woman. I am excited beyond my wits, dear Prince!"  
  
Legolas' eyes lit up. "No more than I am, Gimli! Only, I have no more wits."  
  
Gimli grinned openly. "You are in love," he said a moment later with a bemused, low rumble.  
  
Legolas remained in his smiling state, his eyes locked with the dwarf. "So I am," he said with a dreamy voice, his gaze unconsciously shifting to the open window. "And now I know that at all other times, I was only infatuated. This feeling........leaves me speechless with its might. Have you felt such a thing?"  
  
The dwarf nodded with a soft smile. "Alas, I have. Many years ago. But the memory remains in my old and rusted mind like mithril itself - as new and solid as the first day." He sighed and both remained lost in their own worlds for a while.  
  
"I see now that you were right again, Master Gimli," Legolas said suddenly and turned to him once more. "It is worth everything. It is worth the world. It brings meaning to my life. To my very existence. A far more important meaning than the throne I sit upon."  
  
"So it does. And something so worthy, my Prince," said Gimli and lowered his tone, bending slightly towards the other man, "has many admirers. The glitter in the mud draws much attention. You must protect it, or else be doomed to live with the memory of it."  
  
At that, Legolas slowly sat up, remaining rigid in his chair as he slowly folded his fingers in front of him and a mask of cold determination took hold of his features. "Do you think he will come?"  
  
Gimli did not answer immediately, not wanting to upset his friend, but then decided that honesty is the best medication. "I fear that he will, Prince Legolas."  
  
Legolas grinded his teeth and looked down at his locked fingers. "It would be a lie if I said that I am not curious and expectant of his coming, as well," he said with a careful tone.  
  
"Are you curious of him or of how SHE engages with him?"  
  
The elf looked up at that, locking eyes with the dwarf. He did not answer.  
  
"Prince Legolas," said Gimli finally, rising from his seat and proceeding towards the door, "let us not fool ourselves. Both you and me have felt fear too many times in battle not to recognize it when it blooms in us." He glanced at the blonde man, sitting in utter stillness. "However, rest assured. Trust me when I say that at this point, it is of no importance. Whatever feelings she might have for this man is irrelevant. If it is not to our liking, we shall change them." He waited another moment before he added "One way, or the other."  
  
Seeing the relief in the Prince's face, he smiled in return and then bowed and left.  
  
Legolas remained alone in the room, bright with the sunlight invading it. The day was so hot even now, that almost all traces of the storm and rain from yesterday had completely vanished already. Vanished they might be, but they would remain forever etched in his memory.  
  
Her taste invaded his mind, then and with it came the feeling of her soft lips underneath his. He closed his eyes as the sensations instantly flared up in him with such force, that he might be experiencing them all over again for real. And with that, came the feverish wish of doing so, once more. How he would wait till nightfall, how he would hold till his eyes found her again and how he would resist the urge to kiss her, was beyond him.  
  
"Impossible," he whispered and opened his eyes again, gazing around the room but seeing nothing. His gaze, instead, was turned inwards, to the night before, to the rain and the clouds, the thunder and the lightning, the stag and the bushes and to Irulan. To how he had so unwillingly led her back home, drawing only strength from the fact that he would see her again soon, all the time a part of him protesting, objecting, torturing his mind. Under the pressure of such conflicts he had kissed her again and again, too gladly obliging to the will of his darker side, too gladly drawing her back at the verge of departure and claiming her lips again. And again. And again. Only to feel cold and devastated at the loss of her touch and against all his determination, striding after her once more as she attempted another try of descending the hill, to draw her back into the shadow of the forest and kiss her yet again. Not caring that she was shocked. Or tired. Or anxious. Or late.  
  
"I am in love," he whispered then. "But where then, is the pain?" he added with a smile, his soul roaring with the thought that against all that people claimed, true love held no pain.  
  
Or so he thought.  
  
******  
  
"I knew it! I KNEW IT!!!" shouted Boromir despite himself. "We should have done what she asked us to do. We damn should have!"  
  
"What do you mean?" said Eomer.  
  
"She had said that she preferred torture and agony rather than coming to the Ball, did she not? We should have accepted and acted on it, DAMN IT!"  
  
Aragorn just kept massaging his face. "Incredible. How that has slipped by us, I dare not think. If an orc army had marched by me unnoticed in bright daylight, I would feel less embarrassed."  
  
All three remained silent for a moment. Then simultaneously they said "The visits to the forest!"  
  
Shocked, they remained looking at each with perfect expressions of awe and disbelief.  
  
"I'll be damned," whispered Aragorn then. And began to chuckle.  
  
"What is so funny, Chief Advisor?" seethed Boromir.  
  
"Not funny, Captain," he said and began to laugh softly. "More like..amazing! Or stunning! Or mind-splitting!" He said between a laughter that became stronger and stronger.  
  
Boromir watched with fascination as Eomer began to chuckle as well. Then broke into a laughter along with Aragorn. He looked from one man to the other, then back. "Not that I can blame you under the current circumstances, but...have you lost your minds?"  
  
Both men just kept on laughing. Finally Eomer found his voice and managed to speak between his laughter: "It is...UNREAL! All...this time....they were meeting..and we....and we.." he could not go on and just laughter louder and harder.  
  
"And the best part is...." wheezed Aragorn, "we are...DOOMED!"  
  
At that, him and Eomer clapped each other's back, laughing even harder. Boromir shook his head and began to chuckle, massaging his face. "I'll be damned!" he said and broke into nervous laughter himself, "But you are wrong..cause..cause.." he guwaffed, "we were doomed...the day that woman....ran into me!"  
  
At that, they just couldn't stand upright anymore and barely managed to sit on a bank in the garden, several times rolling down, then crawling back up again, and laughing till the echoes of their voices bounced from wall to wall and seeped throughout the palace.  
  
********  
  
Irulan finally finished serving lunch and was about to return to the kitchen, all the time trying very hard not to show how anxious and in a hurry she was, when Ingmar spoke up. And the moment she heard the serpentine tone of voice of the old woman, Irulan knew with certainty that something very bad was coming. It was coming like a winged wyvern, shrieking through the clouds. She could already feel its claws on herself, so real was the feeling.  
  
"Where are you going, Irulan?" the woman said softly. Irulan remained frozen in her tracks, the tray forgotten in her hand. She remained like that a moment too long and her body turned around to face the three seated women, on its own accord.  
  
"To wash the dishes," she heard herself saying, and her own voice sounded foreign to her.  
  
Ingmar smiled then, her dark eyes in that ash-white face chilling Irulan as it always did. She glanced at Hetaire and Vessun who, their hands neatly folded on their laps, smiled an equally sinister smile.  
  
"Oh yes...you are. Believe me, you are," Ingmar said softly and Irulan was amazed that she could continue breathing. She swallowed hard and waited for the inevitable doom.  
  
"How dramatic a thing it is," sighed Ingmar after a long silence, as the three pairs of eyes never left Irulan.  
  
"What is?" Irulan whispered despite herself.  
  
"The moment one realizes what one is missing, Irulan. The moment one becomes conscious of what exactly one wants. What one NEEDS." Irulan just kept staring back. Her heart had broken into a fast gallop as she felt her face growing hotter and little droplets of sweat trickling down her back. For what, she did not know. But she knew with utter certainty that the wyvern was coming for her. "For until that realization life is bearable. Not so after it. After it, it is a long, sad longing." Irulan felt compelled to look up, then, to see if she would see the wyvern now, as it flew down like a flame, like a red arrow, like death itself on wings. To grab her and to tear her into pieces.  
  
"Do you want to know something that is even sadder?" the old woman said then and leaned slightly forward, reminding Irulan once again of a big, sinister spider. As an answer, she only swallowed.  
  
"The moment when one realizes that whatever is needed, is beyond reach, my love."  
  
At that, she produced three gowns and a hooded cloak from underneath the table. She smiled as the tray in the girl's hand began to shake, the cutlery in it clinging wildly. "Such is this very moment, Irulan," she said, her eyes locked to hers, "enjoy it to the fullest." 


	16. Preparations and Revelations

Dear Omni - no, I have not watched Ever After. But I have read and watched the story of Cinderella countless times. And since this is only another (and rather foolish, I might add) version of it, it is only reasonable that some things remain the same. After all, if I had changed everything, it would turn into something completely else. Your reviews are fantastic. Thank you for your praise - though I am still certain that I do not deserve it.  
  
Dear Alina - sigh..you love me, you hate me, you love me again. What can I do? I am who I am. As to Legolas being a man - yes, he is a man. I mean he is an elf -and I doubt that there is anyone left who is not aware of that, yet- but he is a male elf. When I use "man" in that context, I mean it to denote the gender, not the race. Like Gandalf, Chemarit, Boromir or Elrond, he is a man. So sometimes I might describe him to be so, and I am certain that no one will get confused and think I mean his race. Actually when he is with Irulan, I like to emphasize that fact about him. It adds to the spice, shall we say. I just wanted to tell you that I am grateful for your concern in the matter and that I do indeed take it into consideration. Don't think I am not reading your giving value to your mails, girl!  
  
As to the rest of you - THANK YOU! As to that accursed inner voice - you can not deny that it does not make sense now, can you?  
  
Since I have a rather hectic week ahead of me, my updates might take longer than usual. Bear with me.  
  
**************  
  
When Eowyn came for her gown, she was surprised not to find Irulan there. The gowns were missing as well. Thinking that Irulan must have departed for their usual meeting ground in the woods, she ran without hesitation, a part of her feeling already excited for the upcoming night. She glanced above, to the sky dotted with stars. It was a beautiful night. Not humid and hot, but gently warm with a slight chill. Perfect. She tried to imagine the fabled gardens of the palace and how they must be looking under the preparations...it would indeed be a night to remember!  
  
With such optimistic thoughts, she finally arrived by their tree, which stood in darkness except for the single lamp swinging from a lower branch and remained frozen in her tracks, observing a crying Irulan and a very concerned Chemarit and Gandalf trying to calm her down. For a few moments she could not move. It was so different a scene from what she was expecting. Many things flew through her head as to what might be happening, and none seemed satisfactory. Finally coming to her senses, she ran the last few feet and towered above the trio.  
  
"What has happened?" she said, her voice betraying an anxiety that was not a too well-known state for the blonde girl.  
  
At that point Irulan looked up. She looked....horrible. Eowyn bit down her tongue to prevent that comment from escaping and tried to look as expressionless as possible. Irulan had obviously been crying for hours, for her face was red and swollen with the effort. Throughout their long friendship, Eowyn had seldom seen her crying, and even less with this much vehemence. Her eyes wandered over the other girl's form, realizing that she was not dressed and that her hair swung around her like a total mess.  
  
"What...is going on?" she managed to whisper finally.  
  
Irulan just inhaled a ragged breath and wiped her eyes again. Her crying had dimmed in its fervor, now only causing tears to slip down her cheeks on their own accord. She bit her lip and looked away, into the dark forest.  
  
Eowyn glanced at Chemarit and Gandalf, then. "What the hell is going on?!" she said, louder now.  
  
"Those witches!" hissed Chemarit and Eowyn suddenly knew what happened, without any further explanation.  
  
"They found the gowns," she said slowly, and her heart literally ached. All this time....she was so looking forward to this! And Irulan! Irulan HAD to go. If she did not, not only would their scheme of making her and the Prince meet again fail, but her deal concerning her freedom would be off as well. She did not realize that she sank down slowly on the grass in the circle of light, next to Irulan.  
  
The other girl gave her a long look. She just stared back, unable to come with anything to say or a solution to offer. A long time they just looked at each other and Eowyn felt herself almost at the brink of tears with desperation - desperation about this cursed fate of theirs, about their miserable lives, about the chains that held them down so. Finally she gently touched Irulan's shoulder and said "I am so sorry, Irulan." It was all she could come up with - and it made her feel even worse. "Don't worry. Perhaps we were not meant to go."  
  
Irulan looked up in surprise at that. Eowyn would never accept her fate. Never say such a thing. Eowyn would always fight against all odds, always stubbornly insist that someday they would break free of this prison of theirs. "It is just a stupid Ball, Irulan. We'll find another way to win your freedom."  
  
Irulan bit her lips with anger at that. "It is not the Ball I'm concerned about!" she shouted and the present company flinched with her sole voice ringing in the dark forest. "I promised Legolas! I HAVE to go!"  
  
"Yes but.....you WHAT?!"  
  
Irulan looked up at Eowyn's confused and alarmed face and took a deep breath. She glanced at Gandalf's rather bemused and Chemarit's rather surprised expressions over the girl's shoulder, hanging in the darkness. "I promised Legolas," she said with a slow and careful tone.  
  
A silence set in during which only the squeaking sound of the old lamp could be heard as it swung in the branches.  
  
"Hold on one tiny moment, please," Eowyn managed to say finally, breaking out of her motionless trance, "do you mean..by any chance....the PRINCE Legolas?"  
  
Irulan shrugged, nodded and looked away, ripping grass.  
  
"One more tiny moment please.....Legolas, as in the RULER of ITHILIEN?"  
  
Irulan nodded again.  
  
"Alright," said Eowyn with a perfectly calm voice. "Just wanted to make sure. Now we can move on to the important part: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??!!"  
  
Irulan jumped despite herself and so did both old men. She clutched at her heart, her sorrow and frustration momentarily forgotten. "Sssssshhhh!" she hissed finally. "Are you insane?! If Ingmar finds me here-"  
  
"Forget about that old cow!" yelped Eowyn, "If you don't explain this to me -and I mean right NOW- you will be running into her arms to seek shelter from ME, Irulan!"  
  
Irulan just sighed, looking around anxiously. That yell must have been perfectly audible from the castle! Gandalf chuckled then and involuntarily they all turned to him.  
  
"Told you she has a boyfriend," he said with a bemused tone.  
  
"WHAT?! PRINCE LEGOLAS IS YOUR BOYFRIEND??!!"  
  
"No, Eowyn! Come to your senses, for Heaven's sake!" Irulan hissed with urgency and resisted the urge to cover the girl's mouth or to kick her senseless. "He only kissed me, nothing more."  
  
The next shriek could indeed be heard from the castle itself. Many ears picked up the faint voice and both men and women shivered slightly, murmuring about foul beasts walking the woods at night.  
  
******  
  
"Sire, I am certain that we can manage. I assure you, the candles will not go out."  
  
Legolas did not turn to look at the man. He just kept staring up to the lantern made of colorful stained glass, swaying gently in the breeze. It was hanging along with thousands of other lanterns and candles on tree branches, wires and ropes around the garden. "Very well, I trust you with that," he said finally, striding towards the long tables decorated with all sorts of food and delicacies. The gang of servants followed at his heel.  
  
"Did you manage to get the fruits I asked you to?"  
  
"Yes Sire."  
  
"And the sweets?"  
  
"Yes Sire."  
  
"Good. I want everything to be perfect. I have a very important guest tonight and she likes those specific fruits and sweets. So make sure you will not run out of them."  
  
The servants just looked at each other. 'Very important ONE guest? The castle will be FILLED with women!' they thought deftly but kept their mouths wisely shut.  
  
Legolas strode from table to table, from room to room, from hall to hall, inspecting every little detail he could find in such a short time. Everything had to be perfect. Under the watchful gaze of his serving staff, he left some halls, then turned around and slowly re-entered them, trying to see things through her eyes and guess whether she would like it or not. As a result, tapestries were exchanged and rooms re-decorated, flags lowered, torches and candles arranged in grand chandeliers pulled higher, the music altered, the guards and servants placed further apart or pushed closer together. The servants ran around, half-mad under his endless string of commands, trying to satisfy him in every way.  
  
'She has to love the palace,' thought Legolas as he strode left and right with dozens of servants trailing him in haste. 'She has to be stunned by it.' Indeed, if Irulan was to be persuaded to live here, she had to like it the moment she laid eyes on it. That would make it far easier to keep her here.  
  
When finally the inspections ended -just in time for the first guests to arrive- Legolas went back to his chamber to prepare. And of course with that, another torture began.  
  
"Legolas," said Aragorn between clenched teeth, "as I have said countless times before, it simply looks.........marvelous."  
  
The elf turned towards the other two men and the dwarf. All nodded in agreement.  
  
"Incredible," said Boromir.  
  
"Very fitting, Your Highness," said Eomer.  
  
"Quite........dashing," said Gimli.  
  
"Why did you hesitate?"  
  
"Who, me?" said the dwarf.  
  
"Yes. You hesitated."  
  
"Well I........."  
  
"I want your honest opinion, Master Gimli," said the Prince with determination and pushed his shoulders back, waiting for it.  
  
Gimli shifted on his feet. He looked at the enraged three men, then back at the Prince. He shrugged and continued: "It really looks amazing, Prince Legolas. However........I find it a tad too........casual, shall we say. The other tunic was more fitting for your royal impression."  
  
The elf turned around and gave the mirror a thoughtful look. As soon as he did that, the three men threw deadly glances at the dwarf, warning him on any further comments regarding the outfit of the night - since they had been standing here almost for an hour now, unable to convince Legolas to pick this or that garment for ridiculous reasons. "Yes, but I do not want to emphasize my status in her presence," he said with a distant voice.  
  
Boromir rolled his eyes at that. Thankfully Legolas did not see it through the mirror.  
  
"Er......not in her presence, yes, Your Highness," said Gimli and cleared his throat, throwing a sidelong look at the other present company to make sure that they would not get any wiser about the following statement and continued: "But perhaps it would be wise to do so in the presence of........ANOTHER.......if you get my meaning."  
  
At that, the elf turned around, understanding in his eyes. "How very right, Master Gimli! I shall try the darker velvet again."  
  
With that he strode into his changing room. All men turned to Gimli again, this time stressing their thoughts concerning this whole dressing parade with eyebrows and mimics. Gimli held up his hands to denote that he would be extra careful not to say anything that would provoke the Prince for further fitting sessions.  
  
"Well?" said Legolas, as he strode out in his gold trimmed, dark crimson and long tunic that definitely bore a more royal impression.  
  
"Magnificent!" said the dwarf.  
  
"Breath-taking, Prince Legolas," said Boromir.  
  
"Impossible not to notice this tunic!" said Eomer with sincerity.  
  
"As always.......amazing, Legolas," finished Aragorn.  
  
The Prince halted for a moment, then turned to Eomer. "You think all will notice this?"  
  
The Second Captain swallowed softly at the threatening glances of the other men and tried to be very careful not to say anything that would make Legolas change yet AGAIN. "Er........yes, of course. It is impossible to miss!"  
  
Legolas glanced at the mirror. "Then it will not do," he said a moment later and began to stride back to his changing room, "I do not want everyone to notice me. They will flock around me and not allow me to remain alone with her, then. I will pick something that draws less attention."  
  
Boromir and Aragorn slowly turned to Eomer and kept staring at him, until the Second Captain shrugged and began to massage his face. They snickered in anger and took a deep breath, looking away, but not before giving him one last, threatening look.  
  
Legolas came out again and stood before them in his light blue tunic with cream colored leggings and soft, cream colored boots.  
  
"Aha! Wonderful!" said Eomer.  
  
"Yes, indeed. Quite impressive," said Boromir.  
  
"It brings out your eyes, Your Highness. Very good choice," said Gimli.  
  
"Simply beautiful," said Aragorn.  
  
Legolas looked down to his boots, then back up. "What do you mean, 'beautiful'?"  
  
Aragorn, caught off-guard by that, remained staring. Then hastily added "Just that - beautiful. It is a beautiful tunic, Legolas."  
  
"Beautiful," murmured the Prince and turned to the mirror again. "You are right to pick that word, Aragorn. It has a too soft and feminine air to it. No, it will not do," the elf said and marched back.  
  
Aragorn massaged his face while Boromir groaned loudly, Gimli bit his fist and Eomer closed his eyes to imagine himself far far away from here, somewhere in the middle of a battle.  
  
********  
  
Irulan sighed and massaged her face. The world was coming to an end in her head - at this point she did not care about who knew what. "Well.......one day I was walking through the forest," she began, "and Legolas happened to be-"  
  
"You mean PRINCE Legolas," Eowyn said with a mixture of both amusement and disbelief.  
  
"He does not like me to call him that," Irulan said without thinking, then swallowed softly as she looked up to the three pairs of predator eyes gazing down at her.  
  
"Oh really?" said Eowyn with a long, sly expression. "What does he prefer? 'My love'?"  
  
Irulan rolled her eyes and moaned in desperation. "Don't you dare turn this tale into something that it isn't, Eowyn!"  
  
"Oh I don't think I will have to," the other girl said, all other incidents completely forgotten, "it sounds glamorous enough the way it is."  
  
When her tale was finished and the last details were squeezed out of her with incredible torment and threat, and Eowyn's excitement had died down (which took an immense amount of time), Irulan felt already tired and depleted.  
  
"That's it!" the blonde girl said, springing to her feet as she had done too many times for the last half an hour. "We HAVE to go! We simply have to. I don't care how!"  
  
"It is no use, Eowyn," said Irulan and looked away, feeling the sting in her eyes again. "The gowns are gone. Vessun and Hetaire will be wearing them." She held her throbbing temple, "Hetaire will be wearing Legolas' gown," she added with a whisper and swallowed softly to shake of the dread that seemed to overcome her again. "There is no way we can find any now."  
  
"I - don't - care!" Eowyn stomped.  
  
"What do you suggest? That we should attack a few carriages on their way to the palace and rip the gowns off other women?!" she bolted, angry now.  
  
"Well...," said Eowyn, scratching her chin in deep thought, "now that you mentioned it.."  
  
"Don't be foolish!" snorted Irulan. "I will do no such thing. I can not go. Legolas will simply have to...find another dancing partner," she said bitterly, amazed how that thought burned her.  
  
"Not while I have breath in me!"  
  
"And not while I have strength in me!" boomed Gandalf's voice.  
  
All the others turned around at the tone of his voice. The old man was standing further back, fully erect, his staff in his hand.  
  
"Chemarit!" he boomed, anger blooming in his blue eyes, "this situation calls for our aid! And I mean fast! The Ball has already started and we certainly have lost enough time. Let's get to it."  
  
Irulan and Eowyn glanced at each other, then back at the two men. Chemarit had crossed his arms on his chest and was looking towards the castle. He began to scratch his head, then and a grin appeared on his face. "Like in the old days, eh?"  
  
"You bet so!" boomed Gandalf, then turned to the girls with a grin, himself. "Behold, ladies! Your fairy has arrived!" With that, he bowed from the waist up.  
  
Irulan and Eowyn looked at each other again. Then they turned to regard Gandalf once more. A long silence set in. Finally Eowyn said "You don't look much of a fairy."  
  
The old man's face turned a little sour at that. He waved his hand dismissively. "Ah forget the faeries. They are no-good, tricky, mischievous creatures who constantly giggle beyond irritation! I am something far better. A wizard!" He crossed his arms, spread his legs slightly and waited for their reaction.  
  
Irulan took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. Eowyn just shook her head. "Alright, Gandalf. This is not the time to be funny," Irulan said finally.  
  
"Exactly!" exclaimed the old man. "It is time that we weave this spell and fly out of here! The Ball has begun and we are still in this blasted forest!"  
  
Irulan was about to say something really ugly at their persistence, but Chemarit grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward, closer to Gandalf. As much as she did not believe him to be anything else but an old wanderer, she still felt intimidated by his closeness and tried to free her hand.  
  
"I say blue," said Chemarit then.  
  
"No. Pink," said Gandalf upon further inspection.  
  
"Don't be foolish! Blue is perfect for her!"  
  
"She is too boyish already. Pink will give her a feminine touch."  
  
"I said blue, you old goat!" said Chemarit with determination. "And you better be careful with the neckline this time!"  
  
"Come on, Chemarit! She has to show a bit of shoulder! Women will be running around half-naked there, today!"  
  
"She has to be comfortable enough in that gown to sit and bend, you fool. I don't want her to stay like a statue all night in fear of showing too much flesh!"  
  
"Fine, fine!" exclaimed Gandalf, walking around Irulan and giving her inspecting look. Irulan just diverted her alarmed eyes at Eowyn, who -as always- had found amusement in the situation and was enjoying the show. "But at least let us make it a little tight! You are too old fashioned!"  
  
Chemarit joined his inspection, then. "I suppose a little hip would not be bad. This girl is too skinny as she is!" He held Irulan's arms and spread them apart. "Alright. You can make it tighter around the hips. But no damn neckline down to her bellybutton! I mean it, Gandalf!"  
  
Gandalf only huffed. "Only if I can leave the shoulders bare."  
  
"Are you two finished?!" yelped Irulan despite herself.  
  
"No dear. We have just begun," was Gandalf's most serious reply.  
  
*******  
  
"Is this going to hurt?" Irulan said, still very suspicious about the whole idea.  
  
"Don't be silly. My spells have no side-effects!" Gandalf said with pride.  
  
Irulan rolled her eyes and tried to remain still. A tingling sensation began in her belly and Irulan could not help herself an alarmed cry. "I feel something!"  
  
"Irulan be quite, woman! Don't scream like that again, you scared me!" said Chemarit.  
  
Irulan swallowed and closed her eyes again. The tingling sensation began to spread throughout her body. 'I can not BELIEVE I am standing here, in the middle of a dark forest and allowing them to do such things to me!" she thought. Going to the Ball was important, yes, but certainly not THIS important! She shifted slightly on her feet and tried to make herself more comfortable. Only when she did, she felt that she was not wearing her usual shoes any longer.  
  
A fear took hold of her heart, then. Until this moment, she had been fairly sure that Chemarit was the biggest dreamer and Gandalf was a simple old wanderer. But at the feeling of soft boots on her feet along with the growing warmth in her body, spreading and fanning out of her, she began to consider the possibility of believing them. And that scared her almost breathless.  
  
After that, centuries passed. Or so it seemed. The urge to open her eyes grew stronger and stronger and became like survival instinct itself. Any moment now, she would be unable to resist. And yet, she did resist. One moment passed. Then another. Then one other. It seemed silent around her, but perhaps her heart was beating too loud for her to hear anything else. She felt herself beginning to shake - out of fear or excitement, she could not tell.  
  
And finally, when she thought it was impossible to continue any longer, she heard Eowyn gasp and her eyes flew open on their own accord. "What happened?!" she yelped, beyond herself with fear, "Did you turn me into something else?!"  
  
All three ignored her and gave her a long look from top to bottom. She followed their gaze, and as unbelieving as that was, found herself dressed in a white gown. Irulan knew that there were wizards and that magic was as common a thing as dragons, or giant spiders or mithril in Middle Earth. And yet, never having witnessed it, she had naturally become accustomed of thinking of it more like a fable. A tale. An explanation to things that could not be comprehended. But standing there in that gown with long, loose sleeves and bare shoulders, flowing gently over her hips, as simple, plain and beautiful as any gown could be, she found all the faith she needed.  
  
"How can anything so plain be so beautiful?" said Eowyn, mesmerized.  
  
"That is exactly WHY it is beautiful, child," said Gandalf, observing his work with satisfaction. "Just like Irulan herself. It is a very fitting gown for her."  
  
Chemarit nodded and crossed his arms on his chest. "No intricate craftsmanship, no jewelry, no gold or silver patterns, no layers of fabric over fabric. Just a plain, simple, pure white gown. It is perfect." With that he threw a glance at Gandalf. "You have outdone yourself, old man!" The other just chuckled with delight at that.  
  
Still mesmerized from so many surprises, Irulan lifted up her skirt to inspect the soft suede white boots she was wearing. "No sandals?" she said a moment later, her pain, astonishment and hopelessness slowly fading into joy.  
  
Eowyn laughed at that. "My turn!" she boomed and jumped next to Irulan in an instant, facing the two old men.  
  
"Fine. Now let's see.........I would say yellow," said Gandalf.  
  
"Green, Gandalf," said Chemarit.  
  
Irulan rolled her eyes and moved away, holding up her long and loose sleeves for further inspection under the lantern.  
  
"Neither," broke in Eowyn curtly. "I know EXACTLY what I want."  
  
"Well.........what is it?" said Chemarit after a moment of silence. Eowyn glanced at Irulan, who was lost in her own world, trying to walk without tripping on the long gown and at the same time avoiding the muddier parts of the forest floor. She motioned the two men to come closer. They looked at each other and approached with narrowed eyes.  
  
"Now.........we definitely need to heat things up a little, don't you think?" she whispered.  
  
Both men unwillingly glanced over their shoulders at Irulan who was still amazed by what magic could do. "What do you have in mind, girl?" said Chemarit finally with a low voice.  
  
"Well........." began Eowyn with a sly smile and looking one last time at Irulan, hurriedly began to explain her plan.  
  
Irulan walked back and forth on the soft grass and thought that it was good to have no sandals on, after all. The soft boots that almost reached her knees, felt incredibly comfortable on her. The dress did so, too. It made her feel a little.........naked.........with the exposed shoulders and the slight v-line............and though it was loose, it was still hugging her far more than any of her normal and daily attires, but she told herself that it only felt so in the forest. In the environment of a Ball, it would blend in perfectly. Or perhaps stick out further with its plain beauty? The thought suddenly occurring to her, she turned around to declare it to the rest of the company, only to be shocked at what she saw.  
  
A man was standing before her, grinning with amusement. His long blonde- light brown hair was held back loosely, flowing freely down his shoulders. Irulan's eyes moved up to meet his blue ones and as ridiculous as it was, she felt amazed by how handsome he looked. He had a light, small beard on his chin, olive-colored skin, incredibly white teeth and beautiful cheekbones. She took a hasty step back and miraculously did not trip on her gown. The man grinned further at that, allowing dimples to appear on his cheeks and that made him look even more handsome - if such a thing was possible!  
  
"Wh-who......what.......GANDALF! There is a.........a........" she stammered, shock melting into fear at such an unexpected and foreign sight.  
  
If Irulan was surprised beyond her wits before that, she was definitely shocked to silence after that. "Ah be quite, Irulan! Don't faint on us now! We still have a Ball to attend, my love."  
  
Irulan opened and closed her mouth like some stupid fish, her vocal cords simply refusing to operate. As was her brain.  
  
The man turned to the two old men, who were arguing about the style and color of the garments he was wearing (which were a combination of dark brown, green and black, making his olive skin and blonde hair further distinctive and only adding to his immense beauty), and boomed: "What are we waiting for?! For Prince Legolas to find someone else? Come on........hurry up!"  
  
"Let us meet by the house, then," Chemarit said in haste. "I'll prepare the cart."  
  
He began to jog, then turned to the wizard, who was still inspecting his work with a scrutinizing eye. "Gandalf! Come on! You still have to put Ingmar to sleep, you old fool!"  
  
Gandalf woke from his trance at that and gathering his hat and staff, hastily joined Chemarit and both disappeared in the dark, leaving Irulan and this........man........alone with the swinging lantern in the dark forest.  
  
"Irulan, we have to go and clean you up. And do something to your hair. Pin it up or something. Turn around, let me take a good look at you," he said and strode towards her.  
  
"Wh-WHAT?! STAY AWAY FROM ME!" she finally managed to yell, clutching her skirts and moving back.  
  
The man wrinkled his nose at the sound that bounced through the forest. "Be quite to stupid witch!" he hissed, "you will alarm the old cow!"  
  
Irulan remained agape. "E-Eowyn?" she said with a whisper.  
  
"No, I mean Ingmar, you fool! *I* am Eowyn!"  
  
"That's what I meant!" said Irulan, her eyes growing even wider. "Wh-what have you done?!"  
  
The man waved his hand dismissively, "Just added some excitement to the whole thing, that's all."  
  
"Are you out of your mind?!" hissed Irulan, approaching the other girl......er........man.  
  
"Why, my little sparrow," Eowyn grinned and crossed his arms on his well- built chest, "you sound like you don't love me anymore."  
  
Irulan, finally beginning to understand the intention of the other, swallowed hard and said "No. You hear me, Eowyn? No! NO! We will not do this!"  
  
"Oh yes we will," the other said, still grinning and exposing his perfect teeth. "Too late now anyway."  
  
"NO!" hissed Irulan. "I will take part in no more games and pretense!"  
  
"Then I suppose you will remain behind!" said the man and turned on his heels to march off towards the direction of the house.  
  
Irulan, astonished and alarmed, lifted up her skirts and ran after him, trying to match his long strides. "Eowyn, stop it! We can not do this, you hear me?! Legolas will........he will......." she did not finish the sentence, suddenly remembering how much Legolas had scared her that day when they had discussed marriage and he had reacted so overly mad and..........jealous. She swallowed softly.  
  
"Be jealous?" said Eowyn with amusement. "Exactly my plan!"  
  
"Eowyn, you fool-"  
  
"The name is Dernhelm," the man said with a grin and strode faster, leaving a dumbfounded and utterly stupefied Irulan behind. 


	17. Day One, Warm Up

All of you who have read the books - the fact that Eowyn dresses as a man to join the battle in Gondor and calls herself 'Dernhelm' then, was one of the most remarkable things happening in the Return of the King, to me. I can only hope that they will put that in the movie, too. It was such an unexpected thing coming from Tokien, and so very fitting, that I HAD to praise it in my own work.  
  
Long live heroines!  
  
Thank you all for being this patient. Although I don't know if it will be worth it. I have already written the next chapter, and am only making corrections to it now. But I had to cut the story anyway for otherwise the chapter would have been too long. In any case, the story of many will wind and bind during the Ball - not only of Legolas and Irulan. Then let us begin with the festivities!  
  
*******  
  
When Chemarit's -now quite transformed- chart arrived at the palace gates, Irulan was beyond herself with excitement, fear, anger and anxiety. Several times she caught herself biting her fingernails and hastily stopped doing so - the image of that looking more than absurd in her current attire. All along the way she had wondered if she indeed was not meant to come. If things turned out the way they did for a reason. What if this night would prove to be catastrophic? What if everything went wrong? She glanced at the current company and found that more than probable. Unconsciously she began to bite her fingernails again.  
  
Only when they finally entered one of the many outer gates and proceeded to move through the mesmerizing gardens adorning the entrance of the castle, did she remember to feel curious about the palace which she had never visited before, and pushing aside the curtain at her right (Gandalf had turned the simple and old cart into the most astonishing carriage Irulan had ever seen), tried to see as much as she could. The beauty of even these outer premises was breath-taking. It was, after all, the work of the elves.  
  
All kinds of people were adorning the intricate paths that led to the palace, which Irulan could now see very easily. They were strolling towards the building, the only common thing amongst them being their fabulous garments. Though she was now very much like them, at that moment Irulan felt more different than ever. While each of these people would go back to a wanted home tonight, Irulan would have to crawl through the woods and then end up in a windowless cellar.  
  
A long time passed before they reached the inner gate that was followed by yet another inner gate. And just when Irulan had begun to wonder to what purpose the official entrance to the castle (it had several, spread in all directions) had so many gates and endless gardens, suddenly they arrived by the castle entrance itself and Irulan felt at a loss of words by the sheer size of it. She had often enough seen the castle from this or that point and knew of course that it was as big as a town. But being so close added a completely different dimension to it. Her gaze wandered up the outer walls that reached out to an intricate pattern of rooms, domes and towers and her neck craned to see the end of it - though it was lost in the dark night sky.  
  
She swallowed softly as another wave of anxiety hit her. As odd as it was, she felt........at disadvantage to meet Legolas here. True, they had met many times in the forest and it should have been more exciting to meet him so alone and in person - not to mention in such an intimate way. And yet, here she felt far more fragile. Perhaps it was the aura of everyone's excitement to see the Prince, but the closer their meeting became, the more intimidated Irulan began to feel about him. After all their time together, he had succeeded in making her see him under a different light and in a fashion that bore nothing of his title. But here, all that Legolas had built seemed to fade from Irulan as she painfully became aware of his identity and once again, naturally, the gap between them. For they were as far apart from each other as two people only could be.  
  
"Irulan, stop sleeping already," said Dernhelm with a low voice and Irulan woke up from her trance to see that the door of the carriage had been opened and Dernhelm was rather impatiently waiting for her to join him outside. Taking a deep breath, she picked up her skirts and stepped out.  
  
They both stood there, waiting for Chemarit and Gandalf to join them (both old men had persistently refused to change their garments and were probably the only two people in this environment who did so). "Amazing, is it not?" Dernhelm said softly, his gaze wandering along the castle walls. "I had never seen it from so up close." Irulan only nodded and swallowed again. "What is it? Are you ill?" the man said then. Irulan gave him a sidelong glance and shook her head, all the time trying to remember that this was no other than Eowyn. It was not easy.  
  
"Here, take my arm," he said and Irulan gave him a dubious look, raising her eyebrows.  
  
Dernhelm snorted at that. "Alright, it was a trap. But, my love, do not deny me intimacy, will you?" he said slyly and Irulan blanched with the idea of what Eowyn would be causing tonight. The girl was simply impossible to deal with.  
  
Finally they strode into the building, which offered them yet again many entrance gates before they ended up in the heart of the palace. At the last gate they stepped through, a band of servants were welcoming the visitors, offering them drinks or sweets. Irulan felt her stomach turning with excitement and refused while Eowyn very greedily stuffed many of the offered items into her mouth.  
  
"May I have your names, honored guests?" said a voice to her right, then.  
  
Irulan blinked and turned to the servant. "M-my name?" she stammered, caught off-guard. "What for?"  
  
Now it was the servant's turn to blink. "To add you to the list of the guests we have welcomed, of course," he said a moment later, bowing.  
  
"Well, I......." she began, thinking that she should not give her real name, but Dernhelm cut her off:  
  
"Lady Irulan and Lord Dernhelm of Ithilien," he said and the man bowed even lower to this startling sight of a man. He was about to turn around to announce the name to another servant sitting at a little desk and scribbling said names on a parchment, when he abruptly turned around and with such speed, that he almost tripped over his own feet. "Lady Irulan, you said?" he asked with a more than anxious voice.  
  
At that, Irulan felt even more uneasy. She shot a glance at Gandalf and Chemarit, but both were -as unbelieving as that was- inspecting the passing throng of people and arguing which gown was more tasteful than which. Once again, Dernhelm answered on behalf of her: "Yes. Is there a problem?"  
  
Irulan almost rolled her eyes at his tone, thinking that Eowyn was certainly getting rather carried away with her new disguise. "Of course not, sir! But we have been expecting the Lady. Prince Legolas himself has requested that we lead her right away to him," the servant said, looking Irulan up and down several times with greedy eyes.  
  
"Is that so?" said Dernhelm with a bemused voice.  
  
"There is no need-" began Irulan but she had to step back to avoid collapsing with the servant who was bowing now rather vehemently to her.  
  
"Please Lady Irulan! The Prince has PERSONALLY asked me! Please allow me to lead you," he almost pleaded.  
  
"But I-" began Irulan again and this time Chemarit cut her off: "Let us go, then. We can most certainly not defy the orders of the Prince!"  
  
Irulan turned to give his bemused smile a silent and threatening stare, but was pushed ahead by Dernhelm.  
  
As they followed the excited servant through hallways and rooms, Irulan turned around and hissed "You men better stop with the attitude! I am getting tired of your pushing and pulling!"  
  
"Oh please don't!" said Chemarit with mock horror, "what will the Prince bring upon us if he hears that complaint!?" Gandalf and Dernhelm chuckled with amusement at that. And however unwilling, Irulan noticed the many heads turning to the young man beside her and the eyes of the ladies wandering up and down his lithe form. Eowyn, who was as bold and daring as any person could be, seemed to be enjoying the attention to the fullest.  
  
They moved further and further into the crowd and Irulan felt at the verge of suffocation. When she felt trapped at one point, the servant took her hand and began to drag her along, courtesy forgotten in his panic of fulfilling his Sire's wish. A baffled Irulan followed along and realized that her friends had remained further behind, having a harder time cutting their way through the crowd.  
  
Irulan, her arm almost pulled out of her socket, was dragged further and further and by the time she glanced back again, she had lost her company. Feeling oddly relieved by that and yet overly excited about the upcoming meeting, she pulled up her skirts further and ran harder.  
  
******  
  
"Are you well, my lady?"  
  
Arwen turned around and stood blinking at Aragorn for a moment, her gaze sweeping over his handsome form that looked quite astonishing today, since Aragorn had changed his usual rugged attire and was dressed in a black tunic, laced very slightly with gold. She was surprised to see him in such a royal outfit and could not remember seeing him dressing up for any occasion before.  
  
When she had finally finished her short inspection and their eyes met once again, she smiled softly and said "Yes, I am. Thank you, Chief Advisor."  
  
Aragorn swallowed softly, looking away, then took another step towards her and remained standing by her side, placing his hands next to hers on the railing and taking in the view of the garden underneath the low balcony. A silence passed between them. Finally he said "Aragorn," with a low voice.  
  
Arwen turned to him with upraised brows. "Pardon me?"  
  
"I am only Aragorn," the man said then with an even lower voice, turning to glance back at her. Arwen cocked her head as she took a long look at him while he stared back at her. Aragorn was a mystery of a man. One moment he was a rugged ranger, the other moment the most efficient advisor in Middle Earth, known for his wisdom and maturity. One moment he was arrogant and cold, the next so fragile and warm. Arwen knew enough about humans to know that it was not a common feature of their kind. 'Perhaps it is because he has been so close with Legolas for so long now,' she thought deftly.  
  
"You are most modest," she said then, her smile deepening.  
  
"Only honest, my lady," he said, in a dreamy expression. "And sometimes, in your presence I am not even Aragorn anymore."  
  
Arwen blinked at that. So did Aragorn. He hastily clasped his hands behind his back and turned toward the view again, waves of discomfort and embarrassment pulsing out of him. Arwen felt curious and compelled by his words and his attitude and just to make him talk further, decided to continue the conversation.  
  
"Why is Aragorn on this dark balcony instead of the dazzling lights and colors of indoors, then?" she said with a tinge of amusement.  
  
The man shrugged lightly and did not answer right away. After a moment, he too decided that it was a chance not to be missed for spending more time in her presence and said "I am not alone here now, am I?" He tried to say it in a bemused and playful way but it came out far too sincere for his intentions.  
  
Arwen smiled that gorgeous smile of hers again and looked up to the sky. "Will you be my confidant tonight, Aragorn?" she said a moment later and locked eyes with the shocked man. He only nodded with a dazzled expression as an answer to that.  
  
"I have lost him," she said then, her smile turning sad and bitter. Then she laughed softly and gripped the railing stronger, raising herself slightly on her toes. "Such folly! The truth is, I never had him."  
  
Aragorn watched her profile in fascination and wondered how anything could be this beautiful. It was of course not only the outer beauty of Arwen he was perceiving at that moment. Even a blind man could state that she was beyond human standards and pushed even the limits of many elven standards. But there was such a feminine and gentle grace to Arwen...compared to her, other women seemed to be clumsy and vulgar.  
  
He swallowed softly and looked away again, trying to think straight. "Who?" he said absent-mindedly, so that she would speak again, for her voice was like a potent drug to him.  
  
Arwen blinked and turned to him in surprise. "Legolas," she said softly, her eyes glued to his.  
  
At that, Aragorn pursed his lips and diverted his gaze once more, afraid to show the fury in his eyes. 'Legolas again!' he thought bitterly. 'Always Legolas.' No other could know what it meant to live under the shadow of such a majestic beauty like Legolas better than Aragorn. And true, he had enjoyed it for many years and thought that as long as his best friend was attracting all the attention, his life would be just fine. Because the freedom of the background was quite an enjoyable thing. So he had been grateful and thankful for the Prince's shade for a long time.  
  
That is, until he first lay eyes on Arwen, daughter of Elrond. Until her gaze had swept over him to rest on Legolas and remain there. From that moment on, the shadow he had cherished so had become a dark, ruined land for Aragorn. He had walked through it again and again, feeling nothing but desolation and frustration. And weakness - for his fate was to remain below Legolas. His fate was to remain in that cold climate, while the sun shone just beyond his reach, taunting him, evading his grasp playfully, taking a step back whenever he took a step towards it.  
  
"Does he mean that much to you, my lady?" he whispered, once again not aware that he was doing so until the words were already out of his mouth.  
  
Arwen tapped one slender finger on the railing. "That is a very interesting question, Aragorn," she said finally and the man sighed at his name being spoken by her. "A confidant you are, so I will share this...strange....feeling with you." She waited until Aragorn lifted his gaze to her again and then continued: "For many years now, I have wished to be something -anything- to the Prince of Ithilien. This wish burned in me, leaving a heavy, red mark." She pursed her lips and looked towards the doors of the balcony behind them. "It has refused me sleep at night. It has refused me the happiness of the company of others. For many years it has rustled me as if I was one helpless, old tree. And I thought 'Alas, 'tis love! Why else would my heart burn so at his mere sight? Why else would my lungs deny me breath at his one simple gesture?'" She turned to Aragorn again and the elf failed to see the pain in his eyes as the man listened in utter silence. "But perhaps you can tell me, Aragorn, now that I have lost him beyond doubt....why is it that I fail to feel pain?"  
  
Aragorn looked up with surprise at that. A strong emotion came over him, though at the moment he could not exactly pinpoint what it was. Later, he would say that it had been hope. Under Arwen's constant stare he managed to speak again "I..I would not know," he said slowly. "Perhaps it was not Legolas you loved, my lady," he added a moment later.  
  
Arwen turned with interest at that. "Then who was it?"  
  
Aragorn pursed his lips and tried to think straight. How amazing it was that his mind would not falter neither in battle nor conflict, but only when she was in sight? "Perhaps," he began again, not knowing how to continue. Thankfully his mind finished on his own accord: "you were being prepared for a love far more true."  
  
Arwen blinked with surprise. "I was being...prepared?" she said in astonishment.  
  
Aragorn pinched his nose, cursing his stupidity. He took a deep breath. In any case, it was too late to make corrections without appearing even more ridiculous. "Yes," he said, clasping his hands behind his back again and thinking that he should apologize himself and leave - even though that meant for Arwen to remember him as the fool he was for all times. "Sometimes I think we go through certain ordeals....certain times of pain and anguish, so that we can appreciate whatever follows it."  
  
He dared not look at her, so instead fixed his gaze to the garden below, not really seeing anything. A long moment passed and Aragorn could have sworn that it felt worse than torture. But instead of the amused laugh he was expecting, the Rivendell elf's slender hand landed on his arm. The man even failed to flinch at the unexpected touch. He just looked down at it with utter puzzlement, and only woke up when Arwen spoke again: "You surprise me, Aragorn," she said with that deep voice of hers.  
  
Aragorn laughed softly despite himself and shook his head. "That is far too great a compliment, my Lady."  
  
"Arwen," the woman corrected and watched the awe in his eyes growing at that. She was used to being admired and therefore, Aragorn's admiration did not surprise her in the slightest - even though he was a man of a very powerful position. What did surprise her, though, was that under the rugged and coarse appearance and under the fact that he was a human, he had such fineness and gentleness. For a moment she thought how strange it was - Legolas the elf was perfection in appearance. And yet he had been nothing but cold and heartless to her. Arwen had tried for years and failed to break through his thick layer of ice - even though another, apparently, had and she could only wonder what kind of woman had managed to do such a thing. Aragorn, on the other hand, was far from perfection in appearance (although he was an immensely attractive and charismatic man, but yet again, a man), but his gentleness and open tenderness to her was unexpected in intensity.  
  
Finally Aragorn smiled. If nothing else, she had allowed him to call her by her name. At that instant, all the motion and music of the Ball came back to him and he took a deep breath, smelling the fragrance of flowers along with food in the warm summer breeze. Momentarily he realized that this was a night of utter beauty and he marveled how he had failed to see that before.  
  
"Are you hungry, Arwen?" he said, feeling relieved for no reason at all.  
  
Arwen laughed softly at the unusual question. It felt good to be surprised. "Well, as a matter of fact, I am," she said with amusement.  
  
The Chief Advisor offered his arm, his infamous grin spreading on his lips. "I hear that Legolas has outdone himself with the variety tonight."  
  
"Then we shall see if that rumor is true or false," she said with another smile and accepted his arm as they slowly strode indoors.  
  
******  
  
Legolas, realizing that he had -finally!- danced with every wife, daughter or mother of the representatives of every visiting kingdom (excluding Arwen, who oddly seemed nowhere to be found), moved up to his seat that stood on a higher platform so that no other request would be made of him. It seemed like an eternity had passed and Irulan was still not there! He sat down as his gaze swept over the colorful mass of people towards the entrance. No servant coming in. In his mind, he ran over all the gates he had personally visited to request her to be guided to him, to this hall that was smaller than the others and only held a certain number of distinguished guests. All seventeen of them. And yet, no servant.  
  
He pursed his lips, a distant throbbing reaching out to him. "How weak I have become!" he thought with distaste. "The Prince of Ithilien! Growing weaker and weaker with the need for her!" And yet, he did not mind. He was tired of being strong, anyway. Tired of being the ever patient, ever just, ever tolerant ruler. He wanted to be a man to a woman, that's all.  
  
He gently rubbed his temple, a very curios ache having settled there for some time now and wondered if that was the elven equivalent of a headache. His gaze wandered to the three entrances in the room and he tried very hard not to expect anything. The troubles that were torturing him ever since this morning had a habit of waking up at such expectations and reciting him the usual ideas of why Irulan was not going to come at all tonight. A part of him thought that he had made a mistake by arranging the meeting in such a manner - that he should have gone there and personally picked her up. At least then this anxiety would not be eating at his heart now. But another part had insisted that she should come to him - for not only did it add to the mystery and the excitement, it also was oddly symbolic. She would come to him. She would demand his attention by doing so. And he would be more than ready to give it.  
  
Not able to sit on the chair any longer, Legolas sprang to his feet and began to walk slightly back and forth on the platform. He stopped every now and then, greeting some familiar faces and talking about the beauty of the Ball. Not really knowing what he was saying and not caring too much about it either, he carefully scanned the crowd again and again. The night grew later and his fear grew stronger.  
  
Finally, when he was about to leave for Irulan's house to find out what was keeping her -cursed be the Ball and all- he spotted her entering trough the door on his right and at the sight of her, the season itself seemed to change. He did not move, remaining on his higher spot and regarded her. Amongst all the similar shapes and forms, amongst so many women, a single one that meant so much. 'How odd it is', he thought, 'that this room as well as many other rooms of the palace are filled with people, and yet none matters but her'.  
  
She was heaving with the run, trying to pry off the hand of the servant who had literally dragged her in and now stood looking around in bewilderment. And she looked...simply..incredible. True, her physical beauty was now beyond recognition, but still Irulan was no more beautiful than many in the room and less beautiful than most. But Legolas saw none of that. The way of the elves is odd indeed, for even if Irulan had strode into the room in her usual old and ragged attire, it would have taken the Prince at least a few minutes to realize that. Therefore, naturally he also did not realize that she was not wearing the gown he had given her, but some other garment.  
  
For those few moments all that mattered was that she had come. And it felt as if she had agreed to anything and everything. Her coming was like a 'yes' to him, to the things he had to offer. And it felt incredibly encouraging and motivating. At that moment Irulan lifted her gaze and found his. Due to some miracle, he managed to breathe and even smile deftly. Amongst this foaming sea of people, they had found each other. Legolas had not felt happier in his entire life.  
  
Irulan smiled back at him, for a moment forgetting her anxiety, fear and worries. At the sight of him, everything seemed to melt to the background. She felt safe with Legolas. She knew that he would take all those things and make them disappear. Both the excitement and the fire re-emerged in her as the Prince stepped down from his location and began to walk towards her. There was no doubt that Legolas was most handsome even in his casual attire. But today he looked beyond anything she could have imagined a man could look like. He wore a long, black outer tunic that looked like black velvet, trimmed with an intricate pattern of gold around the edges. The gold was reflected on his hair that hung free today, kept back by a very slender and barely distinguishable crown of Ithilien. Inside the black jacket he had a silver-golden colored shirt, tucked in his black leggings, ending with a black pair of suede boots.  
  
She looked down for a moment, trying to still her frantic heart. It seemed so ridiculous to get so excited now - had they not met many times? Was it not far more exciting to be alone with him than in the company of hundreds? Had they not even shared an intimacy far beyond this? Then why was she feeling like some stupid infatuated girl?  
  
It was only natural that the spell broke - for all good things come to an end.  
  
As Legolas was approaching her, parting the sea of people, his passion for her growing with every step, Eowyn -that is, 'Dernhelm!'- appeared beside Irulan and encircled her waist with his arm, and although everything seemed to come to a most unnatural halt for him, his feet kept moving on their own accord. Irulan flinched slightly with the unexpected touch and diverted her gaze to see who it was. And at that moment, Legolas could have sworn that he saw the world red.  
  
"I have caught up, my sweet," Dernhelm purred, pressing a shocked Irulan to himself.  
  
Then Irulan blinked and tried to push him off without making a big scene of it. One part of her mind was blinking an alarm, saying that Legolas was approaching, the other side tried to find a way of hurting Eowyn to an incredible amount without anybody noticing.  
  
"Eowyn, you fool! Let me go. NOW!" she hissed and tried to wiggle out of the other's embrace, but Eowyn -it seems- had gained quite a bit of strength with her new identity and only embraced her harder at that.  
  
"Aw come on....how unbecoming, Irulan!" she pouted.  
  
"You witch! If you don't let me go this instant, I swear I will make you pay for this for years!"  
  
Dernhelm only grinned and as ridiculous as that was, Irulan once again noticed the turning heads as the handsome man beside her showed his perfect white teeth and adorable dimples.  
  
"Such fire! And we have not even danced yet!"  
  
Irulan pursed her lips, ready to slap the man in the face -no matter what the consequences- when a shadow appeared on her and her gaze automatically went up - only to lock with the blue fire of Legolas.  
  
****** 


	18. A Long Awaited Meeting

Here it is! I know..the last chapter ended with a horrible cliffhanger. But at least the next one did not take too long to edit. First confrontation between Legolas and Dernhelm. Though it certainly won't be the last one. I know you all want to rush ahead to the end of the tale, for no one can understand impatience better than me. But...let us enjoy the pleasure of fantasy while we can, shall we? Thank you all so much. Alina - you have not offended me at all. Criticism is always welcome. Thank you so much to everyone else. No, Chemarit is not an Istari. He is just an old man working for the three evil women. And yes, Eowyn's transformation is temporary - though she might not go back on it for a while. And for those who have asked - I have no other written work than the Irulans and now this one. In fact, before Irulan I, I have never written anything. I suppose now that I have started, I might as well continue..ha ha.  
  
*********  
  
She forgot to breathe as moments passed with agonizing slowness while the elf stared down at her and she stared back, her mind tumbling up and down, inside and out. Perhaps, if Dernhelm had not spoken up, they would have remained like that far longer.  
  
"Your Highness!" the man exclaimed and Irulan could almost taste the pleasure this whole incident was giving him.  
  
At that Legolas turned to lock eyes with him and did not look back at Irulan again. Thankfully, because only then did Irulan dare to take a breath. Swallowing hard and trying to calm her heart -once again without success- she began to deftly try squeezing herself free from Dernhelm's incredibly strong grip.  
  
Dernhelm bowed his head slightly, his blue eyes never leaving the Prince's as his smile grew wider. "Such an honor, Sire!"  
  
Legolas only clenched his jaws and remained stiff as a stick, as he tried to bring back alternative colors to his vision and at the same time stuff the warrior elf back into the corner of his mind. True, he was expecting to see..........her friend.........tonight. As a matter of fact, he was even looking forward to it - for it would give him a chance to put an end to the problem for all times. But his sudden appearance before Legolas had found the chance to speak a single word to Irulan, nevertheless spoiled his mood. Not to mention that his grip on her waist was most unbecoming. Legolas clasped his hands behind his back to keep them from shooting out on their own accord and tearing Irulan away from the man's arms. He had to be calm. Under control. He was the Prince of Ithilien, in Uroth's name! He had to prove both him and Irulan that he was far beyond and above this.........this.........creature.  
  
"This Ball exceeds all my expectations, Highness," continued Dernhelm, perfectly oblivious to both elf and woman, "Irulan and I enjoy it immensely!"  
  
At the mention of her name a muscle twitched on the elf's neck and Irulan hastily looked away, feeling under risk for no apparent reason. That terrible aura was emanating from Legolas again and it made her afraid beyond anything. 'I knew I should have stayed home! It was a sign from the Valar for Vessun and Hetaire to find those gowns!' she thought with dismay and with one last push finally managed to unclench herself from the man's grip.  
  
Legolas remained silent and that made her even more afraid. Another long moment passed during which Irulan dared not look up at him anymore, feeling completely embarrassed of doing this to him - after she had allowed him to kiss her.  
  
The elf took a long, inspecting gaze at the man's face. So this was HIM - the man hanging like curse between himself and the woman he loved. The man who had insisted for her to come to the Ball. The man who had bought her a gown -at that, his gaze wandered to Irulan and with widening eyes he realized that she was wearing another gown tonight - not the one he had had prepared for her! His eyes found hers then and he saw such deep sadness there, that for a moment he forgot all about the man and his own fury.  
  
"I am so sorry," whispered Irulan, biting her lower lip and looking away.  
  
The elf took a deep breath and turned to the other again. He did not know what the apology was for and he did not really care. It did not matter - Irulan was his. What she thought or what this..this....man intended, had no value.  
  
"We have not been introduced," he managed to say and even though it came out with reluctance, it was calm enough.  
  
"Dernhelm at your service, sir!" said the man and this time managed a more exaggerated bow. His blue eyes were twinkling and Irulan knew too well that it was pure pleasure.  
  
Legolas avoided the "Nice to meet you," part on purpose and gave him another long look. To his utter demise, the man was incredibly handsome - with long blonde hair and a light brown beard. As odd as it was, he reminded him of Eomer, only this one had dashingly blue eyes instead of the hazel-green of Eomer.  
  
He felt like running his hand through his hair with desperation as another punch of jealousy landed right on his stomach, taking his breath away. He wanted to speak, to put him in unease, to bash his confidence (which was an unusual amount, by the way, considering that Dernhelm was standing in front of the Prince of Ithilien at the moment and acted as if the elf was just another man), but his anger was beating down on him with unbelievable force and everything that he had planned to say, just vanished. At that moment, Legolas suspected that he would have been more composed and calm facing the Dark Lord himself instead of this simple human who had met Irulan before him. Who had touched her. Kissed her.  
  
Legolas swallowed hard and tried to divert his thoughts away from that path, aware that he was nearing the edge of his control, and feeling both amazed at such a thing and fear of it. How ironic it was that a Prince -and an elf at that- raised by the best, taught by the wisest, honed by the strongest now stood at the possibility of losing all that education and training in the face of such a simple and ridiculous matter! 'Elf or human, dwarf or hobbit - the heart rules over all of us,' he thought then, bitterly.  
  
"I have heard that you 'met' Irulan before?" Dernhelm spoke again, seemingly unaffected by the silent fury that he had been receiving from the Prince for several minutes now.  
  
Legolas grinded his teeth and nodded to that. "She has told you about it?" he managed to say, an unbelievable pain surging through him.  
  
"Of course she did! And I have to admit that I felt a little.....jealous, Sire!" When the elf gave no indication of his emotions, he added "I suppose every man would, considering that it is YOU their women are meeting, your Highness!"  
  
Legolas dismissed the whole sentence except the "their women" part and the red color that drenched the world was there again.  
  
"What is your relationship with Irulan?" he demanded suddenly, skipping the "lady" part on purpose, wishing to announce to the world about the degree of their intimacy.  
  
Both Irulan and Dernhelm blinked at that rather blatant question, and glanced at each other. "You just called her 'your woman'. Are you married to her?" the elf pressed on, now at the edge of his nerves.  
  
"No....." began Dernhelm a little uneasy, when the Prince intervened again.  
  
"I suppose that it was a wrong on your behalf, then, Dernhelm," he said with a cold tone.  
  
"Not yet, I meant to say," the blonde man added then and Irulan almost broke into a coughing fit.  
  
Legolas' eyes widened at the remark and he took a small step towards them. Irulan looked at the perfectly calm Eowyn and suddenly felt an admiration for her friend. To stand so before Legolas while the elf looked as he did now, required no doubt a lot of guts.  
  
"Either you are a dreamer, or too suggestive for your own good," the Prince hissed.  
  
"Well...." said Dernhelm, clasping his hands behind him, "actually I am none. Anyone can see that she barely deserves me while I deserve far better."  
  
Irulan gasped at that and the elf blinked in surprise. "What?!" both she and Legolas said simultaneously. For a moment Irulan forgot how absurd it was for her to object and her eyes became two small slits, observing furiously the cool demeanor of Dernhelm after such a rude statement.  
  
"Come now, sweetpie," he said and Legolas' fingers itched to strangle him right there and then for the use of that word on her, "let us not go through this again. You are no special woman and-"  
  
"Irulan is a VERY special woman. Too special for you, as a matter of fact."  
  
Dernhelm shrugged only at that. "She is nothing but a servant, Your Majesty," he said then and Irulan pursed her lips, trying very hard to remember that this was her friend Eowyn trying to 'heat up' Legolas' feelings for her - though at this point, the Prince obviously needed no more heating up.  
  
Legolas took another step and stood nose to nose with the other man now. "Say that again and I will personally behead you."  
  
Irulan flinched at his tone. Dernhelm, on the other hand, only grinned and nodded with satisfaction.  
  
"Y-Your Highness," she stammered, beyond herself with anxiety.  
  
"Do not call me that," Legolas said, turning to her. "Have you forgotten my name, Irulan?"  
  
She opened her mouth, then swiftly closed it. A glance at Dernhelm only sealed her suspicions - Eowyn was wiggling with pleasure at these new discoveries she was making. Irulan blushed a deep red as Legolas regretted talking to her so in front of this scum of a man. "Forgive me," he said gently, "I spoke without thinking." She swallowed softly and nodded, still inspecting her feet and once again thinking that she should have stayed home.  
  
Legolas wanted to slap himself for making her uncomfortable like that. All thoughts about Dernhelm forgotten, he opened his mouth to apologize again, when that accursed man broke in and reminded them of his presence. "No need to worry, Prince Legolas," the man said with unbelievable ease, "I shall see to it that she will be taken good care of as my wife!"  
  
That was the moment the elf decided that he would kill this man. Right there and then. For the first time in his entire life, he decided that he had the only title in the kingdom that gave him such a freedom and he had all intentions of making use of it. This man was a walking corpse. He would never touch Irulan again.  
  
Eowyn, though, was too wise to remain standing after infuriating the Prince so. Having barely finished her sentence, she grabbed Irulan by the arm and swept her away, the other following in utter shock, almost falling over her own gown. "You are MAD Eowyn!" she yelped, feeling frustrated beyond words now. "You are MAD! Let me go, now!"  
  
"Nonsense," said the other with a low voice, "YOU are the mad one. If you had any brain in that head of yours, you would play along, Irulan. Don't you see what I am trying to do! He is about to sweep you off your feet and carry you to his room!"  
  
"Stupid ox! I do not want him to sweep me off my feet and carry me to his room!"  
  
"Yes but *I* do want that. So...bear with me."  
  
With that, the blonde man turned around and grabbed her waist, attempting to dance. Irulan pushed herself off him, without success. "Enough Eowyn. You are destroying everything," she said, tears coming to her eyes.  
  
"Irulan, just trust me you stupid goat," the other said, exhaling with irritation. "I would never.."  
  
"NO! Let me go this minute! I am tired of this game. I don't want to take part in it anymore."  
  
"Too bad but you don't really have a choice."  
  
At that moment Dernhelm disappeared. Irulan watched in astonishment as he was pulled back and thrown away with such force that he actually flew a good distance through the air and then landed very unceremoniously on his bottom. Her gaze wandered slowly up to see a blistering Legolas before her. And although Eowyn certainly had deserved far worse, Irulan felt truly afraid for her. For in Legolas' eyes she read the tell-tale signs of pure and intentional murder.  
  
Even though Irulan was under emotional overload at the turn of events in such a short time, she could not help to marvel at the fact how jealous and at a loss of control Legolas seemed to be. He was the Prince of Ithilien, for Heaven's sake! And she was not his wife. Not even his lover. Perhaps he did not even love her. And even if it had been so, his position and status demanded a far cooler response to attempts of Dernhelm's nature. All her life she had only heard of how composed the Prince was at all times - how his astonishing self-control had gained him victory not only in the battlefield, but also in meeting rooms and in far more official matters. To have such an elf as their Prince, was the pride and glory of Ithilien, for it denoted that they had someone at the throne whose mind would not be clouded with emotions.  
  
And exactly THAT seemed to have changed. For Legolas, who had never acted emotional in any matter in his life before, was acting purely so now. Perhaps it was only natural - since he was a living, breathing being, like any other, and an elf on top of that - a being far more emotional in nature than any other race in Middle Earth. Perhaps he had been denied the outbreak of his feelings for too long and that was why now he seemed to be unable to stop them. Or perhaps he was denied any emotional involvement of such degree before and he simply did not know how to deal with this foreign and strange state of things. In any case, as Irulan locked eyes with him at that moment, a sad feeling erupted in her, along with all the other ones. She felt...sympathy...for his struggle - the battle that was constantly raging on in his psyche. For contrary to everyone's belief (including maybe Legolas himself), a fire was buried within him, far underneath that ice surface and the elf was forever cursed to suffer the agonizing pull of opposites.  
  
He glanced at her briefly, then turned around and strode to his victim to finish whatever he had started. Irulan watched with amazement, unable to move for a moment, then not knowing how she managed to, ran after the Prince and grabbed his arm before he could reach Dernhelm, who was scrambling to his feet.  
  
Irulan, failing to stray Legolas from his path by pulling, threw herself in front of him, now completely ignoring the stares they were receiving. "Legolas!" she hissed, observing with dismay how she was easily being pushed back by the advancing elf, "Legolas! Have you lost your mind?! Stop! Now!"  
  
Legolas barely heard her. All he thought about was that this man needed to be eliminated. And he was wrong beyond measure - for Irulan DID have a choice. She would choose him. Alright, so maybe that was not much of a choice, given the fact that it was an ONLY option. But such distinctions had long ago vanished from his mind. There was no way HIS woman was getting married to this man. The thought itself made him dizzy again and he attempted to charge ahead, only then realizing that he had been pushing Irulan ahead of him and that she stood pressed against him. He blinked and looked over her shoulder, seeing that Gandalf and some other old man had taken Dernhelm by both arms and were dragging him away, trying not to make a big scene, although the blonde man was obviously resisting.  
  
"Legolas!" Irulan said with a louder tone and he seemed to wake up at that. The Prince remained standing, heaving with fury, his gaze following a silently protesting Dernhelm out of the room. "How very becoming of a Prince!" Irulan hissed, feeling more than over-exposed as a larger and larger crowd became aware of the incident and stared curiously at this woman who had just dared to plaster herself against the Prince of Ithilien.  
  
"Who," began Legolas and he could not help the dangerous tone off his voice, "was that cursed man?!"  
  
He directed his gaze on her and Irulan gulped audibly, taking a step back.  
  
"He..well he...a..."  
  
"A FRIEND, Irulan?" he said, his heart exploding in his chest over and over again.  
  
Irulan pursed her lips in desperation. "Yes!" she said finally and saw that the elf's eyes grew almost black in color with that.  
  
"A friend who means to marry you?!" he said, feeling anger along with tormenting pain, now.  
  
"NO! He is....he is mad, Legolas. He is not himself!" To a degree, it was true.  
  
The man took a deep breath and clasping his hands behind his back, shifted on his feet to stand straight. He gave a look to the observing crowd and everyone dispersed at once, hastily resuming their dancing or walking away without breaking into a run. He fixed his gaze on Irulan, then, and that stopped her from biting her nails.  
  
"I hope you have said farewell to him," he said, his voice so calm that it was unnatural.  
  
Irulan blinked. "Farewell?" she said in confusion.  
  
"You will never see him again," he continued, his voice as flat and expressionless as can be.  
  
Irulan's eyes widened. "WHAT?!"  
  
Legolas' gaze wandered to the exit the three men had taken moments ago and feeling very happy to have regained his infamous coolness and calmness (though it was about then minutes too late, but nevertheless), he casually said "The friendship of such a man is not for you. And since he is mad, he might even prove to be dangerous. But fear not - I shall protect you from him."  
  
Irulan's mouth dropped open. The rage she was feeling for Eowyn was miraculously changing direction now. And for one moment Irulan stood in perfect balance, not sure towards which of these men she should feel fury. The Prince's cool gaze rested on her again and momentarily the scale tipped. She unconsciously took a step towards him. "I think I have misheard you, Legolas," she hissed.  
  
A sudden uneasiness appeared in his eyes, but it was gone so fast, Irulan did not even see it. "I think you have not," he said with a level tone.  
  
"Then I HOPE that I have," she spat slowly.  
  
Legolas grinded his teeth. "Then allow me to repeat," he said very slowly and his tone of voice was becoming quite dangerous, "you - shall - never - see - him - again."  
  
"So I belong to you now, is that it?" Irulan said in disbelief, disappointment taking hold of her.  
  
"Yes you do!" he said, and then blinked, surprised that he had said such a thing and feeling very nervous at the look that Irulan was giving him now. Irulan looked away then. He opened his mouth, meaning to correct his phrase by saying 'We belong to each other', when she turned back at him, the fire of anger shone in her brown eyes. "That's it!" she hissed. "I have had it! He treats me like a game piece and you treat me like your favorite possession, Legolas. Now I know I have made the right choice by choosing my freedom. For believe me, I am neither!" she said and turned around, stomping out of the room with long strides.  
  
"Irulan, wait!" he called after her but Irulan had no intention of waiting for anyone now. For the first time in her life, she thought "I deserve better than this," and it made her feel incredibly good. Yes, damn it, she DID deserve far better than this. Prince or friend, man or woman, stranger or kin - she was tired of BELONGING to someone. All her life she had belonged to another. Not anymore. Suddenly she understood that she needed neither this deal nor a freedom granted by another. Yes, there were risks; yes, there was danger - but Irulan felt ready to face those. She would leave Ithilien. And now! Immediately! This very minute! Cursed be all men and women who thought otherwise. She was even ready to do it on a horse!  
  
Striding with such thoughts, she ended up somewhere where she should not have. For she could not remember this room before and realized that she had taken a wrong turn. She walked through the room, hearing Legolas calling her name again, but not caring the slightest, and arriving at another corridor, filled with laughing, talking, singing people, decided to turn right.  
  
"Irulan, please halt," Legolas said again and it sounded frighteningly close. She picked up her pace and turned left when she arrived to another parting again, and by this time had the gloomy feeling that she had lost her direction for good.  
  
She felt the elf catching up with her and without turning around said "Don't bother, Legolas. I am leaving."  
  
"Please," he said with obvious pain, "please do not leave. The Ball has just begun. Please stay and-"  
  
"Enjoy it then! I am leaving and I don't mean here, Legolas. I mean I am leaving Ithilien." With that she turned to look up at him and spat "For good!", hastening her pace, not knowing that she was walking completely in the wrong direction.  
  
"What?! NO!" Legolas said in shock. "You will not!"  
  
"Oh watch me then," she said, taking another left turn and arriving at some steps which she began to ascend, just for the sake of moving ahead, knowing in her mind that ascending steps had to be wrong, since she had never descended any when she arrived to the palace.  
  
"I can not let you do that," he said as gently as possible, panic growing in him. Along with the thought that she was walking the wrong way.  
  
"Throw me in your dungeons then! Or perhaps you would like to throw me around a little, as you did with Dernhelm!"  
  
"Don't mention his cursed name!" Legolas said before he could stop himself. Then hastily added "Allow me to apologize. Please halt your step."  
  
"No. I am tired of allowing this and allowing that. I am going and that is final. Return to your festivities, Prince Legolas. You still have your future wife to find there!"  
  
At that moment she felt herself pulled out of her way and pressed against the wall. "Enough!" Legolas said and secured her hands underneath his, pushing himself against her. Even though she knew that it was useless, she still fought him. But Irulan's struggles were nothing to Legolas, who refused to remove his soft but steely grip on her. After a time of silent battle, her muscles accepted the defeat and ceased to move. A look to the right and the left suddenly made her aware that the corridor was deserted. As a matter of fact, it was fairly dark and silent and suddenly Irulan felt afraid, the presence of herself and Legolas in such a corridor bringing back the memory of her dream.  
  
In her fear, Irulan remained frozen as Legolas completely and gently pressed down on her with his body, leaning his cheek on her forehead and staying like that for some time. She could feel his heart beating the frantic rhythm that hers was, a strange song echoing through that and their soft breathing. She clutched at her tempter, trying to maintain her hold over it, but it slipped through her fingers. No matter what, his touch on her and his warmness was simply undoing everything else.  
  
"You are walking in the wrong direction," the elf whispered finally into her ear and when his warm breath hit her, she closed her eyes, feeling the fire penetrating her defenses against all her struggle. Her brain chanted on how wrong he treated her and how she should just leave and push him and do this and do that, but the words drowned in the deeper sensations that grabbed her psyche by the hair.  
  
Irulan did not answer for a long time, silently watching the war that was taking place between her sensations and her sentiment. It seemed to rage on forever, and she could not tell which side she wanted to win. But with the temper, gone was the strength of her mind and her logic and they stood no chance against the fierce power of emotions, which broke in on them and drowned them like a giant wave.  
  
"What lies in this direction?" she managed to whisper back finally, simply for the sake of saying anything at all, since that maddening song of their heartbeats was entrancing her further and further. To her utter demise, Legolas placed a warm, lingering kiss on her cheekbone and Irulan almost groaned as the butterflies in her stomach took that as a sign for awakening.  
  
"The library," he whispered and kissed a spot further down, towards her jawbone. "The royal cemetery", he continued, followed with another kiss, moving towards her chin as Irulan felt incredibly weak, helpless and defenseless, hating and loving it at the same time. "The palace granary," -kiss-, "Secondary stables", -kiss- , "Rohan," -kiss-, "Land of Rhun."  
  
Finally reaching her lips, Legolas did what he was burning to do for a whole day now and kissed her with a gentle and deep kiss, as his heart did not know whether to calm down with her kindling temper, or become more frantic with the effect she was having on him. And at that moment, just for that one single kiss, all preparations for this useless Ball became worthy.  
  
"Would you like to see it?" he said finally, gazing into her eyes and feeling so utterly lost and yet certainly found at the same time. Irulan merely nodded, stupefied beyond words.  
  
The Prince hesitated for another moment. "Which one?" he said then, his soft fingers caressing her cheek.  
  
"Perhaps we can start with the library?" Irulan said with a hoarse voice, her fury and everything else already melted away beyond recognition.  
  
Legolas nodded then and took a small step back to release her. But he did not release her completely, encircling her waist with one arm and gently pulling her into a slow walk as he kissed her forehead, trying to minimize the distance between them.  
  
Irulan matched his stride, a calmness overcoming her as she suddenly thought how different this feeling was from the frightening atmosphere of her dream. "This is my curse," she thought to herself, leaning on him, unable to feel less than ecstasy at the warmness of his arm around her, "Now when I can be free, I meet him and he ties me like no other bond can."  
  
"What of the Ball?" she said then, her voice causing a slight echo in the deserted corridors that were obviously not the main corridors used to travel in the palace.  
  
"It has served its purpose," Legolas said with a dreamy expression. He looked down at her and added "You have come and I am with you."  
  
They both did not talk for a while, their steps not hasty at all, since all the time in the world seemed to belong to them now. "You were right, Irulan," Legolas said suddenly, his gaze directed straight ahead. "Of all people, YOU deserve to be free. It was selfish of me to act the way I did."  
  
Irulan swallowed softly and looked up at his profile. At that, he looked down at her and locked eyes. "All I wish is for you to share that freedom with me," he whispered gently. In his mind, he was killing Dernhelm over and over again and he knew that he was far from being finished with that man (and thankfully Irulan did not see the violent images in his head while he was sharing such a gentle and warm moment with her), but as strange as it was, this thoughts did not contradict with his wish for her freedom. She should be free, yes. But free with HIM.  
  
She looked away then, not certain what to say and how to say it. Thankfully Legolas did not mention those words again and instead, began to tell her about the places and rooms they were passing by in the enormous palace. They encountered few on their way, and those were overly surprised to run into the Prince in these deserted parts but wisely only bowed and disappeared behind a corner. He remained strangely oblivious to them, and to her dismay, did not remove his arm or change his intimate state with her, although she herself read the surprise on the passing faces clearly enough.  
  
When they finally arrived at the large doors of the dimly lit library, Irulan's temper had faded completely. Even if it had not, it would have, at the sight of the royal library. Her mouth dropped open as she walked into the gigantic room with incredibly high ceilings. Once again, the history of Ithilien and its many rulers was painted on the ceiling and the walls, now only partly visible in the dark. The shelves of books reached to incredible heights, vanishing in the shadows above and Irulan wondered briefly how one would attain the books up in the highest locations. She walked around, her steps making a gentle echo in the deserted place. Several fireplaces adorned the room, each with comfortable armchairs and cushions facing them with small tables laid in between, covered with books and parchments.  
  
"Legolas," she said softly, not looking back, "If I lived here, I would never leave this room."  
  
The elf smiled at that and moved closer to her, observing her admiration and astonishment. It was then that he realized the beauty of her garment and he could not help himself feeling high regard for the taste that had produced such a thing. It was far more fitting for her than the garment he had prepared. Of course, anything would look beautiful on Irulan, but this plain and simple gown reflected something very vital about her. His eyes wandered over her, for the first time realizing the feminine contours of her body and even though the embers of jealousy seemed to re-flame with the thought of HIM buying this gown for her and her wearing it, the passion that he begun to feel momentarily drowned such distasteful thoughts.  
  
He walked towards her with slow and silent steps and remained right behind her as his hands reached up and gently cupped her shoulders, then slowly ran down her arms, and finally rested on her waist. Irulan stiffened at the intimate contact, but did not move away.  
  
"Anything you see and desire in this palace, is yours," he said softly, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss on her shoulder. Irulan stiffened even further at that and it took all her willpower to remain standing on her spot. She laughed softly, an undeniable nervous edge to it.  
  
"Legolas, you are indeed spoiling me! These books are........priceless!" she said and swallowed softly. "They are all copied by the best artists in the land, and most probably do not even have another copy anywhere else." Legolas traced her neckline with his fingers and Irulan swallowed harder, still resisting the urge to move away.  
  
"You can have them all, if you like," he whispered a long while later.  
  
Irulan pursed her lips and looked down, thinking that she would have no room for books on her journey.  
  
"Stay with me," Legolas said then and leaned his forehead on the back of her head. She would move away then, but he held her by her waist and Irulan found herself incapable of movement.  
  
"I-I am with you," Irulan said, evading the meaning of the offer on purpose.  
  
"Nay. Stay with me. Here. I am tired of sharing you with another life."  
  
"Legolas," she said, suddenly feeling incredibly hotter, "are you........do you know.........what you are saying?"  
  
"Yes I do," he whispered and placed another kiss on her nape. Irulan closed her eyes and felt herself swaying.  
  
Irulan opened her mouth, then slowly closed it. The idea of staying with Legolas was too alluring a thing. And yet...would it really make her happy? Did love always suffice for everything? And what if one day it was no more? What if Legolas' heart felt for another....where would she end up then?  
  
Legolas walked around to stand before her. She looked up at him as the flames in the fireplaces danced on her face and once again, he felt amazed at how much he wanted her. Nobody else but her. How he felt like a....part...of something when he was with her. "Do not answer me yet," he said finally, reminding himself over and over again that he should not spoil his whole plan of attraction with such haste. It was difficult not to feel unendurable excitement with her presence, and yet, he needed to push it back. Three days was a long time. Long enough to win a fortress. He would be patient. He would offer a life of such attraction, that Irulan herself would want to stay.  
  
She did not step away as he leaned in and kissed her yet again, unable to resist now that they would be surrounded by too many people for him to engage in such bold actions as often as he wanted to. "I am being hasteful. Are you hungry?" he said softly, caressing her cheek.  
  
Irulan, speechless by the string of events that started with the discovery of the gowns and continued with unexpected revelations, magic, confrontations and passion, softly laughed at that. "I am. But I don't think I can eat, Legolas!"  
  
Legolas took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm as he led her out of the silent library. "Ah, but wait till you see what I have brought in for you!"  
  
"What?" she asked in childish excitement.  
  
"Everything you liked at the market place. And countless other things to taste and discover, yet. From places as far as the Shire!"  
  
Irulan's eyes widened with disbelief and the elf felt proud at having her impressed so. "Well....I suppose we should start trying, then!"  
  
They slowly entered the corridors again and began to stroll towards the exit where the north-eastern gardens lay and where, at that moment, Aragorn and Arwen where having a splendid time, themselves.  
  
And so the Ball began. Of course if Legolas had known that the upcoming three days would not only hold immense joy and pleasure, but also an incredible amount of distasteful and infuriating events, perhaps he would have found it wiser to ask many things of Irulan right there and then. Perhaps he would have locked the large wooden doors of the library and remained in there with her for the entire Ball instead of walking out and right into the middle of confusion, chaos, fight, puzzlement and competition.  
  
But then, "One can not treasure something if winning it did not cost any pain one's behalf," said the Valar and who are we to question their wisdom?  
  
***** 


	19. New Aqcuaintances

"Let go of me you old goats!" hissed Dernhelm with a low voice. He should be far stronger then these rumpled old men, but as surprising as it was, they had turned out to be rather fit.  
  
"You will get yourself killed, you stupid girl!" Chemarit hissed back and, tightening his steely grip on the man's arm that he had managed to bend backwards, pushed Dernhelm ahead again.  
  
"I was doing pretty good, thank you," was the flat reply.  
  
"I suppose you didn't get the chance to see the face of the elf - busy being thrown across the room, as you were," said Gandalf from her right. "I have seen Legolas under many circumstances, and believe me when I say that I have never seen him like that before!"  
  
"Because he has never loved before, I suppose," Chemarit added to that in a dreamy voice, the man in his grip forgotten for the moment.  
  
"Indeed," Gandalf mused, oblivious to Dernhelm as well, "I believe he has not. Who knew he had such passion?"  
  
"And who knew Irulan would be the one to unshackle it?" chuckled Chemarit.  
  
"Amazing!" added Dernhelm. He too had forgotten about the struggle and the fact that he was being dragged out. "Why, that little witch..."  
  
"Halt!" boomed a fourth voice at that moment and all three men remained frozen in their steps. A few moments none dared to look around. They did not need to. A dwarf walked around the company to stand before them. His long rusty red beard and hair were braided in accordance with the ways of the dwarves and he looked quite...unusual...without his war attire. It was not too many times one would see a dwarf without his or her armor. Many even said that they were born with it and that is was actually a part of their physical body!  
  
When he reached his target location, he slowly turned around and, hands still clasped behind his back, faced the company with a most scrutinizing look. The silence continued. The dwarf's beady eyes swept over Dernhelm -twice-, over Chemarit -once- and finally rested on Gandalf. Dernhelm felt Gandalf slightly shift on his feet. Finally it was his abrasive voice that once again broke the silence:  
  
"We meet again, Wizard!"  
  
Chemarit and Dernhelm both glanced at Gandalf who smacked his mouth slightly as a sign of distaste and then, letting Dernhelm's arm go, slowly began the process of taking out and stuffing his pipe. "So we do," was his cool reply. "And you are as old and rusty as I was expecting you to be."  
  
"Mortal or not, none of us get younger, my friend," Gimli countered with equal coolness, not diverting his gaze. "I would love to say that I have seen you in better shape," he added then with a lazy gaze, "but it seems that even in this...state and outfit....you are by far not your worst!"  
  
Gandalf just rolled his eyes and bit on the stem of his pipe. "Well I have more important things to do than braiding my beard for festivities!" was his frosty reply and without waiting for an answer he beckoned his friends to follow him. But the other broke in again:  
  
"Why such haste? You have not introduced me to your friends yet."  
  
After a rather long staring duel which made both Chemarit and Dernhelm very uncomfortable, Gandalf slowly removed the pipe from his mouth and briskly said "Chemarit and Dernhelm," his blue eyes never leaving the little form before him.  
  
"Dernhelm," murmured Gimli with a dubious voice. "So you are Lady Irulan's...friend." Three pairs of eyebrows rose in unison to that. "I have seen the little demonstration Prince Legolas did on you, a few minutes ago," he added then as an explanation.  
  
Dernhelm, releasing his other arm from Chemarit now, stepped forward. "And who, may I ask, are you?"  
  
"Gimli, son of Gloin! Lord of the Glittering Caves!" Gimli exclaimed with obvious authority and arrogance.  
  
Dernhelm's eyes widened at that. "You are...you...LORD GIMLI?!" he boomed with a thunderous voice and surprised everyone.  
  
"Did I not just say so?" the dwarf replied after a moment of perplexity.  
  
Dernhelm took another step and stiffly bowed then, surprising the dwarf even further. "I am your most avid fan, Lord Gimli! I have read all about your genius in the battlefield. Please allow me to say that it is an utmost honor to meet you here today! And allow me to say that you....you are my hero!"  
  
And that was the one, only and unquestionable way to undo Gimli, the fierce warrior. All distaste about Dernhelm instantly forgotten, the dwarf bloated on his very spot, slightly rising on his toes as a deep rumble of amusement echoed from his chest. He threw a smirk at Gandalf, who was not pleased with the situation at all, and returned his gaze to this handsome man before him.  
  
"I thank you," he said, his voice having gained an obvious softness now, "that was most unexpected."  
  
Dernhelm grinned widely with joy of having met his idol. "So was our meeting!" He looked at Gimli with twinkles of admiration in his eyes for a minute longer, then slightly bowed his head again: "I know that you must be busy and that many others must be seeking your company. But...if you have even a few minutes....I would be honored if you share them with me! I have so many things to ask!"  
  
Chemarit and Gandalf gave each other irritated glances at the girl's quite obvious admiration for the dwarf. It was more than obvious that Eowyn had forgotten anything and everything else at that moment - including Irulan. Which, by the way, was not such a bad thing.  
  
"Well..." began Gimli and threw him a sidelong glance, ".as a matter of fact, at the moment I am free. Ask away!" He barely kept his grin from showing. Dernhelm showed his exquisite teeth and began to walk slowly along the dwarf, thinking where to begin.  
  
*******  
  
When they arrived to the more crowded areas, Irulan felt already incredibly better. It was kind of strange, walking arm in arm with Legolas like this, without disguise and in public. It was impossible not to notice the looks and sometimes even glares they were getting, but as time passed and as the Prince's relaxed attitude continued, Irulan learned to ignore them to a certain degree. They talked about many things, mostly of unimportant nature - about food, distant lands, the history of the castle, the training and education of a prince. Irulan asked almost everything that came to her mind and Legolas answered with unrelenting pleasure and patience.  
  
As the crowd grew, though, she became more and more aware of it and finally when the arrived at the entrance to the garden, deftly removed her hand from his arm. Legolas of course was too smart to her ways. He stopped abruptly and turned to regard her with that intimidating gaze, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
Irulan pretended to observe the happenings around her, but no match in a patience contest like this to the elf, finally gave up and huffed. "What?!"  
  
"It is me who should ask that question," was the dry answer.  
  
Irulan shrugged and looked away again. "So are we going to eat or not?"  
  
"Of course we will," he said and to her utter demise, took her hand to pulled her along. Her eyes widened at the shock of that and she snatched her hand back, hiding it behind her back and feeling quite stupid for doing so.  
  
Legolas turned around again and his voice betrayed no impatience. "Is something the matter, Irulan?"  
  
"No," she said and bit her cheek.  
  
"Can I have the honor of holding your hand, then?" he said softly, offering his own.  
  
"Well," she began and shifted uneasily on her feet, unconsciously bringing her hand up to bite her nails, and Legolas snatched it from her so fast that she barely found the time to blink at the action.  
  
"I take that as a 'yes'," he said calmly and turned around to resume his walking. This time his grip was too strong for Irulan to break. "For a moment there I thought you would object to such a natural thing, Irulan," he said without turning back and throwing smiles to passing couples.  
  
"As a matter of fact-"  
  
"But I know that you are too wise and self-confident to do such a thing," he added curtly.  
  
"But I was-"  
  
"Here we are! And look who else is here! Good evening, Estel," he said, cutting her off once more and to her utter demise Irulan found herself nose to nose with Aragorn. No need to mention that neither liked that very much and hastily turned to look away. Irulan pulled at her hand again but without success. Aragorn just remained rooted and where was that infamous grin of his tonight? He looked far more.entranced. Though the sight of Irulan cleared quite a bit of fog in his mind.  
  
"Lady Irulan!" he said finally, breaking the silence under Legolas' dangerous glare that clear enough asked him to be as courteous as he could manage. "Forgive me...I did not recognize you for a moment. You look absolutely stunning!"  
  
Irulan barely kept herself from rolling her eyes and staring back in a sour manner. Aragorn reminded her too much of their deal and their common lies. She threw him a sidelong glance. "You look very handsome yourself, Lord Aragorn," she said slowly.  
  
"Thank you. We did not get the chance to know each other better. But I heard that Prince Legolas had that honor."  
  
Legolas smiled with satisfaction at Aragorn like one would smile at a good dog or an obedient horse. Irulan did not see it, of course. She was too busy working with the Ranger around their little pact. "Yes, he did. But the honor is mine, of course," was her late reply.  
  
"I think everyone has met each other, but me," came a deep voice suddenly and Irulan looked up to lock eyes with an incredible creature. Scratch the fact that she was standing in the middle of hundreds of gorgeous women - this one was certainly no woman. Irulan could not help her mouth dropping open as her eyes swept over the figure of Arwen, and back.  
  
"Allow me to introduce you to Irulan, Lady Arwen," Legolas said softly. As perplexed as she was, Irulan noticed a lot of things instantly - the fact that Lady Arwen was an elf. That she was beyond beautiful. That her gaze at the Prince was far from innocent acquaintance. That Aragorn pursed his lips and decided to inspect his boots at the sight of that look. That Legolas stared back in total disinterest. That -once again- Arwen was simply beyond beautiful. And that Legolas would STILL not let go of her hand.  
  
"Irulan, is it? So very unlike the Prince to call someone on first-name basis," Arwen mused, glancing down at Irulan again (she was taller than her).  
  
Irulan opened her mouth, but only swallowed softly, unable to come up with anything to that. Legolas gently caressed her hand with his long fingers, his gaze locked to the other elf.  
  
"Perhaps I have never found anyone to do so, before," he said, his smile never faltering and both the couple in front of him and Irulan looked up at that with shock. The elf, though, seemed completely careless about his boldness and Irulan, realizing that his mood was so set, felt suddenly anxious of the remaining time of the festivities.  
  
Arwen found nothing to say to such a drastic statement and remained fixed on Irulan, who squirmed with discomfort at her gaze.  
  
"I am Arwen, daughter of Elrond, the Lord of Rivendell," she said slowly. "And I am glad to meet you." She nodded slightly, the lights of the lanterns sweeping over her dark hair.  
  
"It is an honor to meet you, Lady Arwen," said Irulan nervously. "Maybe it is improper, but I still have to say it - never have I seen anyone with such awe inspiring beauty."  
  
Arwen smiled at her honesty and the admiration in her eyes. 'And yet,' she thought to herself, 'it was not enough to capture the only heart I wanted to.'  
  
"You are being too modest, Irulan," Legolas intervened gently, looking down at her with an expression that made her blush and pull at her hand again (to no success), and once again make Aragorn and Arwen's eyes widen.  
  
"Legolas!" she hissed in warning, her face turned away.  
  
The elf's eyebrows gently rose to that with a mixture of innocence and amusement. He loved to see her blush. He looked back at the Rivendell princess to resist the urge to lean down and kiss Irulan's cheek.  
  
"I see that the first name basis goes for both sides," Arwen said, at this point feeling a little irritated because of the Prince's daring attitude. His open compliment to this girl was awful enough. But the fact that this compliment took some of the glory off hers, was simply too much!  
  
"Of course," replied Legolas softly, "I wouldn't have it any other way."  
  
Aragorn, who had been observing this amazing interaction in silence, felt dazed by the shock of it. Obviously there was something more -FAR more- than mere friendship between Legolas and Irulan. For one thing, the man was very much in love! Even though Aragorn had never seen Legolas in love before, he didn't doubt that observation for a single moment. And while many things in his head clicked in place concerning the last couple of weeks and the oddness in the Prince's behavior, many other and new questions were born at the same time. Most of which were about where the future of this relationship lay.  
  
A part of him felt incredibly happy and he had to think a few moments as to why that was. Then he realized that he was happy for Legolas. Happy that the elf, who had always seemed so gloomy, cool and oddly sad was now this glowing and vivid being. That he was not gazing out his window in such agony, or breaking into a sad smile whenever the mention of love or marriage came up. In his spirit, Aragorn felt sincere joy at the presence of Irulan and what it had given to his friend.  
  
And yet, another part of him felt anxious of the direction this was going. He knew Legolas too well to make any stupid assumptions - the Prince was an elf with no gear for backwards motion. Once his mind was set on something, it was more reasonable to argue with the Dark Lord rather than try to talk sense into Legolas. And considering that he had been like that even without being attached so passionately, he was more than certain to react far more obsessive and decisive in this case. He glanced at Irulan. 'Women are such wonders! Will we ever unravel them?' he thought.  
  
And at that very moment something even more dreadful happened - Lord Haldir decided to join the quartet.  
  
His hungry eyes taking in everyone's position and lingering several moments on the entwined hands of Irulan and Legolas, he came to a standstill between Arwen and the Prince, folding his hands before him as his glamorous Lothlorien garments shimmered softly with the reflecting lights. "Prince Legolas," he began softly, and Irulan marveled at his musical tone, "Splendid Ball you have here! I must admit that it exceeds anything I have seen before."  
  
"Thank you, Lord Haldir," Legolas replied with a soft bow of the head. "Allow me to introduce Irulan. Irulan - Lord Haldir of the Lothlorien elves."  
  
"Irulan," the blonde elf mused and smiled softly. Irulan smiled back. Considering the present company of an itching Arwen and a too silent Aragorn, Haldir seemed to be a very nice person.  
  
Haldir, on the other hand, had finally found something that would dampen the lethal boredom he was feeling. Lothlorien elves were a closed community like most other elven communities and many had never even seen a human before. He found humans interesting and -taking another look at her hand in the Prince's- Irulan, he found even more interesting.  
  
"Are you a local of Ithilien?" he said then, his blue eyes fixed on her.  
  
"Yes I am," was her reply while Irulan had to fight the urge to gulp with excitement.  
  
"Well perhaps then you can help me with the selection of the immense variety of fruit today."  
  
Irulan's eyes widened. It was not every day that an elf of such a status asked her for a personal favor like this.  
  
"Well, of course I would love t-" she began, but Legolas cut in smoothly:  
  
"I'm afraid I have made a similar request of her before you, Lord Haldir," he said gently, but the edge in his voice was clear to everyone who knew the Prince's relationship with Haldir. Everyone except Irulan, that is. "Perhaps Lady Arwen will be kind enough to-"  
  
It was the Prince's turn to be cut off. Which never happened, actually, so it was most surprising when Aragorn spoke up with haste "Lady Arwen is not a local herself. And *I* have made a similar request of her before, Sire."  
  
A sharp tenseness set in as the Prince gave Aragorn a very dangerous look, silently asking him to retrace his words so that the princess would go instead of Irulan. Aragorn stared back in frustration, at this point not caring if Legolas would be mad at him or not, for he had finally in many years managed to capture some time alone with Arwen and he simply could not let her walk off with Haldir now. The duel went on for so long that Irulan spoke just for the sake of ending it. And of course not understanding what the big fuss was about, she said in the most natural manner "I would assist Lord Haldir. That is, I do not know many of these fruits myself, but perhaps we can try together?"  
  
Legolas squeezed her hand so hard, she almost cried out in surprise. She looked up in shock to his gaze which spoke of utter distaste. "He needs no assistance!" Legolas almost hissed. Then he managed to continue in a calmer and louder voice: "Lord Haldir is...a close friend, Irulan," -it would be an understatement to say that it pained him to say this- "he would understand that you have other promises." At that he looked up to the Lothlorien elf, who had no such understanding at all.  
  
The fire of competition was slowly engulfing Haldir as he began to get a feeling of how much this Irulan woman meant to the Prince. If she meant that much, well he certainly had to use this to his own advantage. For days now he had been incapable of infuriating the Prince of Ithilien and alas, that had never happened before! It was most frustrating, to say the least. "Exactly," was his smooth response while he bowed to Irulan before he continued "I am a close friend. Therefore I know that Legolas would trust me not to...steal you away, shall we say." He held out his slender hand. "Come, Lady Irulan. Where shall we start?"  
  
Irulan glanced from one elf to the other and back. She did not understand what was going on here and both Aragorn and Arwen's amused smiles were not very helpful either. Legolas seemed to be blistering with fury while Haldir was as cool as a mountain stream.  
  
"I think...that is, I fail to see...why we can not go altogether," she stammered finally, deep confusion etched in her voice.  
  
At that, everyone blinked and their faces showed mild distaste at the realization that Irulan had found the one and only solution none could object to without looking downright rude or strange. For a few moments, they remained standing in regret and silent anger, then the Prince -sending one last warning look at the direction of Haldir (who replied with nothing but amusement)- slowly and with a feline grace walked around Irulan to stand between her and the Lothlorien Lord and gently encircled her waist during the stroll. One had to be blind not to read his movement as an open claim of property and warning to anyone who dared to challenge that.  
  
"Let us go then," he said stiffly and pulled Irulan along the long table, having lost all appetite. Haldir dared not challenge Legolas openly -for the elf seemed to have become so unpredictably direct and harsh (he suspected this to be the work of that impossible dwarf, but had not proof for his argument)- so he remained on his own side of the barricade, next to Legolas, and did not attempt to walk around him to Irulan's side.  
  
Aragorn and Arwen threw each other one last glance. Then Aragorn shrugged and offered his arm and the Rivendell elf took it. Both of them fell in behind the trio in slow steps.  
  
************  
  
Legolas had no intention of letting these...leeches...ruin his limited time with Irulan. So he just pretended that they did not exist and hoped that they would get bored at that disinterest and leave on their own accord. The other three, meanwhile, had no intention of leaving and remained silent background observers, watching in wonder and bewilderment this new Prince of Ithilien unfolding before them. Aragorn even rubbed his eyes several times, thinking that as much as a ranger and Chief Advisor and experienced warrior he was, he might still be confusing the night with a dream. He gazed around for Boromir and Eomer, even though he knew that he would most probably miss them in this crowd, wishing that they were here so that he would have someone to lean towards and ask to be pinched.  
  
A gentle, warm and even merry person had replaced the cold, expressionless and heartless Prince who, with different proportions of these three elements had been very able to create other moods as well - such as being rude, merciless, uncaring, unaffected, melancholic, sharp, edgy and impatient, to name a few. One had to know Legolas in person to understand the degree of shock the three people were experiencing at that moment, while they followed in the footsteps of the couple, watching their unusual exchange.  
  
"Are you certain this is the same one, Legolas? The one we have tasted had not this much flavor!"  
  
"I am certain," the Prince said, holding the red fruit to the dim light and inspecting it as if the matter was truly of grave importance. "However, this variety seems to be slightly different, Irulan. Which one do you like better?"  
  
"This one of course! It tastes very...flowery," she finished, her face shrouded in confusion at not being able to find another adjective.  
  
Legolas chuckled at that and offered her the fruit with grace. "I will keep that in mind," he said with a low voice.  
  
Irulan smiled and accepted it, softly biting into it, while the elf gently nudged her to continue down the line. "And I recall that you liked these berries."  
  
"I did. Where are they from?"  
  
Legolas ate one, his gaze sweeping around. He locked eyes with one of the servants and motioned him to come closer. The young man swiftly glided towards them, gulping with anxiety. "What is this fruit called and where is it from?"  
  
The servant blinked several times, his eyes washing over the present company while his mind told him to remain calm and cool. Then he stammered "I.I do not know, Your Highness! But I shall find out!"  
  
Legolas nodded absent-mindedly and placed one of the berries in his palm. "Do not forget," he said gently, to which the servant vehemently shook his head and then disappeared with the fruit as if he was on a quest of utter importance.  
  
"That was unnecessary," was Irulan's quiet comment as her eyes followed the servant.  
  
"Why is that?" Legolas said then, resuming his walk, still oblivious of the watching three pairs of eyes.  
  
"Well...it was not a matter of importance. He should not have gone on such an useless errand."  
  
"I thought he was rather happy to oblige," the elf mused then. "Besides, no information is unnecessary." With that, he picked another, this time a yellow fruit arranged in neat slices. "Here. Try this."  
  
Irulan took a bite and her features twisted, indicating that it was sour. The elf placed the remaining half on the surface of table to be removed and motioned her to continue. "Maybe it is because I am not used to being...served so," she said, trying to swallow without smacking her mouth, "for I was always on the serving side."  
  
At that, Legolas remained standing and Aragorn, who was carried away observing this new state of the Prince and his unique interaction with Irulan almost ran into his back. "Too long, perhaps," the elf said with a cautious and low voice. "It needs changing."  
  
Irulan shook her head and brushed on a spiky shell of another fruit, trying to feel its texture. "But you have many servants as well. You worry for me and yet you feel no discomfort in commanding them." She was too busy with the inspection of the shell to notice the looks she was getting.  
  
"We are all servants, Irulan," Legolas said then, and the girl, surprised at that soft tone, froze in her attempt to smell the shell and glanced up at him. "These men serve me so that I can serve Ithilien, so that Ithilien can serve Middle Earth. I am not of more importance than any of them as a person, but our duties are separate." His gaze wandered around the garden then. "I try to make sure that they enjoy their job as much as I enjoy mine. It is not a lowly thing to be a servant. It is, in fact, a most important thing. I could never succeed in their skill, and I know that they could not take my place. It is only a sharing of a common responsibility, that's all."  
  
When he locked eyes with her again, Irulan nodded softly. "Yes. As always, you are right, Legolas." Legolas smiled at that and she placed the shell on the table, looking up again. "And that is why I am and will remain a servant, I suppose," she said then, not with sadness or frustration, but with a most natural tone.  
  
At that, the elf's eyes widened and he took a step towards her. "As I have said - we are all servants and tools in some grander scale. And yet, it is injustice in its cruelest form if we are misplaced in our serving. It is a sad fate for someone of many capabilities to end up in a way where he can not use any of these. You, Irulan, have been serving the wrong party for too long a time. You were meant for other things in life and I take it upon me to help you find your place."  
  
Irulan, taken aback by his serious attitude and not really certain what his words meant, looked down as Legolas' hand found hers again and enfolded it. "Well..." she said a moment later, slightly grinning, ".as long as it does not require me to be a LADY!"  
  
Legolas laughed at her long and dramatic expression of the word. "Irulan, seeing you tonight, I am certain that you are too late in that fear. You are already a lady. Always were, as a matter of fact."  
  
She rolled her eyes and Legolas laughed harder at that. "I am not!" Irulan insisted with mock anger.  
  
"Ask anyone you want," the elf said with amusement, pulling her further down the table.  
  
Aragorn and Haldir watched in amazement while Arwen turned her face, her discomfort about this whole childish chat growing with every word.  
  
"That would mean nothing, Legolas. They would say so in fear of you," she smirked.  
  
"A very wise thing it would be. For I would have to behead anyone who dares to state the opposite."  
  
"How very romantic," she countered and the elf just laughed harder.  
  
Aragorn, amazed to hear Legolas laugh more in the last minutes than he had heard him laugh a whole lifetime, shook his head and grinned himself. And at that very moment, while he was still following the duo who were bashing each other in childish excitement and carelessness, very oblivious to their identities and their surroundings, his heart suddenly made a decision on its own. No matter where this was going, he decided that it was a good and worthy thing, meant to be kept. He remembered, of course, his deal with Irulan and the feeling of guilt that he had felt that very day in the woods when he had accepted her terms of leaving Ithilien at the end of the Ball, instantly invaded his heart again. He remained frozen in his tracks with the realization of that and frowned, looking ahead but not seeing anything.  
  
'I knew I made a damn mistake!' he thought, 'I KNEW it!' Unaware that Arwen was standing at his side, observing the change in his facial features, he tried to shake it off, as he had done that day. But unlike the first time, this time it refused to leave him. After many moments of struggle, he swallowed softly, looking down at his hands, present company forgotten. 'Well...I suppose I will have to unmake that mistake, then,' he thought silently and looked up in determination only to meet Arwen's blue eyes.  
  
"What is the matter, Aragorn?" she said and the tone of concern in her tone surprised the elf herself.  
  
"Nothing," the man replied gently and turned to see that Legolas, Irulan and Haldir had walked several steps. "A change in plans concerning a certain matter is needed, that's all," he added with a murmur.  
  
Arwen nodded and took his arm, although he had not offered it. "As much as we may regret it from time to time," she said softly and glanced at the couple ahead of her, "change is always a good thing."  
  
"It is indeed," said Aragorn, her own change of attitude towards him bringing incredible joy to his heart.  
  
******* 


	20. The Future of Ithilien is at Stake

It is wonderful to see old friends as well as new ones! I am getting such wonderful reviews and I am tempted to feel proud. Though I stash back the feeling. I know it gets longer and longer and alas..I simply refuse to make it shorter! I love the tumult and chaos of conversations and the jealousy, rivalry, misunderstanding and angst. Any Cinderella story would be pretty, cute and pink. I want mine to be anything but.  
  
I am grateful for all reviews and I hope to hear from all of you again. And again. And again. By the way, the rating MIGHT go up. Perhaps it should have done so a while ago..but..truly - I see nothing R rated in a passionate kiss. And I dare to think that I am gifted enough to have written more into it. Ha ha..  
  
************  
  
"There they are, Captain Sir!"  
  
He glanced at the two women standing a small distance away. They looked as glamorous as every other woman that day, with their beautiful green and blue gowns. And yet, there was something.......repelling about them for no apparent reason at all. He should know. Since he knew a lot about women.  
  
"You are certain, are you not?" he said then.  
  
"They gave their names at the gate, sir and as you have requested-"  
  
"Even if he is not, I am, Boromir," Eomer said from beside him, then. The First Captain turned to look at him, dressed in white and silver today and looking even more magnificent than ever. His hazel green eyes stood out even more in this outfit. "I recognize the gowns. They were meant for Lady Irulan and Eowyn."  
  
Boromir's eyes widened at that. "What?!" He looked back at the sisters, then back at Eomer. "But........but......" he began and waited a few moments before he continued: "But that will ruin EVERYTHING!"  
  
The Second Captain looked away to still his anger. "Aye," he said between clenched teeth. "I suppose Lady Irulan will not meet the Prince, after all. And she will not gain her freedom," he said in open sadness.  
  
Boromir looked at him with perfect horror. "Not to mention," he said a moment later, "that our torture in the matter will be for NOTHING." Then his eyes narrowed as a thought occurred to him: "Do you.........do you think that in this case our duty concerning these women is cancelled? Perhaps we no longer have to-"  
  
He stopped in mid-sentence when Eomer turned to give him a frosty look. The Second Captain clenched his jaws, his eyes boring into his, and suppressing a mutter, he turned around and strode towards the sisters, Boromir very unwillingly following his lead.  
  
"Good night, ladies," Eomer said with his smooth voice. Both women turned at him and recognizing the captains of the armies of Ithilien, they instantly fell into a deep curtsy, not standing up again. "Please," he forced himself to continue, and softly pulled Vessun up by her elbow while Hetaire stood up as well, "grant us with your names."  
  
"I am Vessun, and this is my sister Hetaire. We are daughters of Ingmar of Ithilien."  
  
Boromir, who had never been good at faking or hypocrisy, immediately blurted: "Your gowns are exquisite indeed!"  
  
Both women smiled in unison at that and for some reason, it looked extremely......creepy.  
  
"Thank you. They are gifts from our sister."  
  
"How gracious of her," Boromir murmured with distaste.  
  
"Oh yes. And these are not the only ones! I am saving the best for the last day," said Hetaire with a sly smile.  
  
"Will this sister of yours be able to attend the Ball herself?" Eomer cut in, then.  
  
Both women broke into soft laughter at that as the men watched them with building fury. "Oh no," Vessun managed then, "she is not.......cut.......for these occasions, I'm afraid."  
  
Eomer pursed his lips and looked down at his boots. He knew that something dreadful had happened. Even if Irulan were to change her mind for some strange reason at the last moment, he was certain that Eowyn would never allow such a thing to take place. And even if that were to happen, they would never, in a million years, give their gowns over to the two sisters both hated with intense fury. "What a pity!" he hissed almost inaudibly.  
  
Boromir regarded him for a moment and felt a strange sadness rising in him. He was surprised at it, so he focused more intensely on why that was. It was perhaps a miracle greater than most, and he had a difficult time believing it himself, but he actually felt sorry for both Legolas and Irulan! 'Wait a minute!' he thought in astonishment. 'That........that woman and the Prince were not fit for each other anyway!' But in his heart, he failed to cherish the thought.  
  
"Well, let us dance, then!" he exclaimed, more to shake off the feeling of dread than any other reason.  
  
"It will be an honor, Captain," Hetaire said with a serpentine smile and placed her hand in his arm. Boromir barely kept himself from shuddering at that. He began to walk with large steps towards the dance floor, his anger growing at this distasteful surprise, pulling her along. Hetaire, in awe of his harshness but very well aware that she could never refuse the First Captain anything, swallowed softly and prepared herself for this unexpected turn of events.  
  
*********  
  
"I have no intention of giving Irulan up!" Dernhelm said with a merry voice as he strode along the table, eating as many varieties as he could. The dwarf watched his amazing appetite, the current issue suddenly forgotten. "And if I am not mistaken, this would be exactly your advice, or no?" the blonde man added, then, looking down at him and winking with a wide grin.  
  
"Well," began Gimli and tried to shake himself out of his daze, "Theoretically, yes. However, under current circumstances, it would be the wise thing to do."  
  
"Ah," said Dernhelm, waving his arm, "I have never been wise anyway."  
  
The dwarf regarded him with both anger and -let's face it- admiration. "Legolas loves this woman," Gimli said then with a low voice.  
  
"Is that YOUR observation, Gimli?" Gandalf broke in, then.  
  
"If you must know - he told me so in person," the dwarf said in irritation.  
  
"Really?" mused Gandalf then, "You might have misheard him with those old rusted ears of yours!"  
  
"You saw his reaction with your own eyes! You always think yourself this great, wise expert of love. Tell me what you think, then!" boomed Gimli.  
  
"Well I........" said Gandalf, feeling irritated now.  
  
"Aha! Exactly!" said Gimli to that.  
  
"Ah be quiet!" the wizard said then, "Just because you wrote a damn book-"  
  
"You are jealous, are you not?"  
  
"WHAT?!" Never!"  
  
"In Uroth's name! Don't start AGAIN!" moaned Chemarit. Gandalf and Gimli froze to that and instantly turned away from each other. "Anyway. I don't care. I love Irulan, too," said Dernhelm, putting up such a wonderful show, that even Gimli failed to see through it.  
  
"Are you stupid enough to cross blades with the Prince of Ithilien?!" hissed Gimli, then. "You stand absolutely no chance against him, I can tell you THAT!"  
  
Dernhelm shrugged. "Legolas may kill me. Though that will absolutely make him lose Irulan. I know her enough to tell you THAT, Master Gimli," he said with a sly grin.  
  
Gimli observed him with astonishment. Throughout this whole discussion, Dernhelm had shown the ability and dexterity no other man had shown. Besides women, he was probably the only man Gimli knew who had been capable of beating the dwarf in his own arena.  
  
"You will cause loss for everyone," he murmured in awe.  
  
"If that is the price and punishment for losing Irulan, so be it," said Dernhelm with a heroic stance.  
  
Gimli shook his head and looked up to Gandalf, who was grinning at the dwarf's loss of words. It was too precious a sight to miss.  
  
"I have to say, Irulan deserves the best," said Chemarit, feeling a certain pleasure himself at the act of mischief.  
  
"Don't be foolish. It is obvious that Legolas is far beyond Dernhelm in anything. Forgive me for saying so, my friend. But I would say the same for anyone else, if they were to compare themselves to this particular elf," was Gimli's reply to that.  
  
"You are entitled to your opinion, of course. And I have immense respect for it, Master Gimli. But, as an avid fan of your book, I am bound to oblige to the rules you have set." He glanced down at the Lord of the Glittering Caves with his blue eyes. "If this is war, I am determined to win it. And your book shall be my guide in it!" he added with a wonderful grin.  
  
Chemarit and Gandalf chuckled with delight as, for the first time since he could remember, Gimli felt as if he were the losing party in the war of love.  
  
*****  
  
"Legolas, if I eat any more, I will disgrace both myself and you by doing something horrible," Irulan said, thinking that it was the only way to make him stop.  
  
The elf laughed softly. "I do not mind at all, Irulan."  
  
"Well I do. Can we stop? Please?" she whined despite herself.  
  
The elf raised his hand and touched her lips, wiping away the remnants of the last fruit, his eyes never leaving hers. Irulan, who was expecting nothing of the sort, remained frozen and completely unable to react. And so did the rest of the company.  
  
Legolas, though, cared nothing about others. Even though he had not drunk a single drop, he felt intoxicated. The freedom of having Irulan with him in front of a crowd in the palace was simply too much of an overload. He could not help himself imagining her always here. No - that was a wrong way to put it. He could not imagine her NOT here. As his fingers trailed her lips, then wandered to the right to her cheekbones and down to her chin, everything else melted to the background. The castle would be as empty and silent as a tomb if she left.  
  
"As you wish," he whispered a long time later, still careless about everyone else. Elves were very different than many other races in Middle Earth. Unlike most, they did not consider being sentimental as a weakness and for them, showing their emotions when it came to love and caring was a very natural thing to do. Many humans would cringe at the idea of exposing their feelings to their lovers in front of a crowd. Not elves. Elves considered love a necessity above all, and the best thing that could happen to any living being. Naturally, presenting and cherishing it was not a matter of shame but on the contrary, a matter of pride and joy.  
  
Therefore, neither Legolas, Haldir nor Arwen felt shame or awkwardness at that moment. Perhaps there was surprise on Haldir's part, and jealousy on Arwen's. But no shame. Irulan, on the other hand, was so drenched in shame, she barely felt anything else. She turned a very peculiar tone of pink, and finally managed to look away.  
  
Right into the eyes of Dernhelm.  
  
Her eyes widened with shock as their looks collided and Dernhelm, who had been talking to a dwarf and unconsciously striding in their direction as he was doing so, momentarily froze in his tracks, then taking in the state of Irulan and Legolas, very slowly began to grin, his attention turning from Gimli's argument to her.  
  
Legolas, seeing the change in her features, followed her gaze and when his eyes met Dernhelm, suddenly thought that as gigantic as it was, the castle was still too small a place since they had been running into this man far too often.  
  
Irulan swallowed softly and almost moaned with frustration. 'Not AGAIN!' she thought. She looked up to the elf whose hand had traveled down to her arm and now held her gently by her elbow, his stance calm and erect, his upper body slightly turned to Dernhelm's direction. His face betrayed nothing but utter blankness.  
  
"Legolas," she said softly and he blinked to look down at her. "Please."  
  
Legolas pursed his lips and looked away for a moment. When he looked up again, everything other than blank determination was gone. He gently held her hand for a moment, then said "I shall take care of this alone."  
  
Irulan bit her lip. After a moment's reluctance she nodded. "I trust you, Legolas."  
  
The elf sighed in frustration. How on Middle Earth would he kill Dernhelm NOW? He squeezed her hand one last time, then clasped them behind his back and strode over to the man. Aragorn, who had not been asked to come and who had no idea what was going on, decided to join the Prince anyway. This whole issue was getting more and more interesting, and he intended to find out everything about the details.  
  
On his way, Legolas realized that Gimli was standing next to the blonde man. Along with Gandalf, and the other old man who had helped to drag him out the first time.  
  
Arriving at his destination, he let his gaze wander over the impossibly handsome man, who was smiling now, his arms crossed over his chest, his stance relaxed and bold. Legolas could not help feeling a little awe at his courage. Perhaps Irulan was right - he could be mad, after all.  
  
"Legolas!" cut in Gandalf at that moment, and walked around Dernhelm to embrace the Prince. No one else would embrace Legolas - but given the fact that Gandalf was an ageless Istari and knew the elf since he was a baby, it was only natural and good. Legolas smiled with pleasure and embraced the Wizard back.  
  
"Gandalf! I was expecting you sooner! But I forgot that your timing is always perfect."  
  
The wizard chuckled at that, and stepping back, took a long look at the Prince. "I was held up - as always. Other matters needed my attention. My, my! You look better than I have seen you in a long time, my friend."  
  
"Aye," said the Prince, feeling happy that this encounter was taking off his mind from other and most distasteful events for the moment. "I feel better, too."  
  
Gandalf looked him up and down again, then turned to Chemarit and introduced him. Legolas, hearing that he was a servant in the same household with Irulan and a close friend, shook his hand with enthusiasm and even slightly bowed to the old man.  
  
"And you have met.........." began Gandalf carefully, but Dernhelm stepped forward at that, cutting him off.  
  
"Yes, I had the honor of meeting the Prince." Legolas stood as still as a statue. "Prince Legolas," he began, "is it your habit to throw your guests around?"  
  
Everyone's eyes widened at that statement. Aragorn took a step and stood right next to Legolas, in case the Prince would do something strange. He did not know what was going on here, but he knew Legolas too well not to realize his tenseness.  
  
"Right before I kill someone, yes."  
  
The eyes widened even further at that.  
  
Dernhelm cocked his head as -contrary to the rest of the group- his eyes narrowed on their own accord. "Why would His Majesty want to do that?"  
  
Legolas took a deep breath. "I would warn you never to force yourself on Irulan like that again........but it would be unnecessary. For I will not let it happen, in the first place." He took a small step towards the other man and added with a low and dangerous tone: "Leave now. Leave and I shall forget this whole incident. And it will be a true display of my patience and tolerance, believe me."  
  
"I have come to take my woman," Dernhelm said to that. One has to understand Eowyn to understand this. One has to know that she was feeling incredible excitement about the fact that she was wearing a disguise no one else could see through. She could do whatever she wanted and no one would ever know! Such freedom given to a woman like Eowyn, was a very, very dangerous thing, pulling her with a temptation that was impossible to resist.  
  
"She is not YOUR woman," the elf hissed.  
  
"Neither is she yours," was the cool reply. "I come to join your Ball with a woman in my arm, and the Prince decides to claim her! How very unexpected a courtesy of Ithilien!" If elves would flush with anger, Legolas would be dark crimson by now. "Even you, Prince Legolas, have no right to do such a thing."  
  
"Do not quote me my rights," Legolas said and took a step towards the man, and Aragorn followed, as tense as a bowstring. "Irulan is a free woman. She can choose whomever she wants!" Blue eyes locked into blue. Then the elf added with more amusement: "And it is my duty to protect this freedom of my people. She has the right of choice."  
  
"Why would you torture her with false hopes, Prince Legolas?" Denhelm said with equal amusement then.  
  
"What are you talking about?" the Prince asked with a frosty voice.  
  
Dernhelm did not reply immediately. He scratched his chin and looked over to Irulan, who was standing with Haldir and Arwen and was as pale as the moon above them. "You are the Prince of Ithilien. Irulan is......" a look from Legolas that dared him to say it, made him swallow the word 'servant' and he continued as ".......she is a simple woman. What can you possibly expect of this to become?"  
  
"It is obvious that our minds are set very different, Dernhelm," the elf said then with a low voice. "I see nothing but a man and a woman. Neither my, nor her title means anything to me. This is Ithilien and we do not place judgment based on such things."  
  
"A man and a woman," chuckled Dernhelm, determined to find out the Prince's purpose concerning Irulan at all costs. "Does that mean brother and sister, Sire?" was the teasing reply. "Father and daughter, perhaps? No? Could it be friends, then?"  
  
"I intend to marry her," Legolas said curtly.  
  
The silence that set in was almost deafening in its intensity. And the only person who managed to remain focused and composed was the Prince himself. Everyone else looked so shocked, that the trio of Arwen, Haldir and Irulan watching them from afar remained frozen themselves, terrified by their expressions and even more by what could be causing that kind of expression.  
  
"W-What?!" Dernhelm said after a long, long time.  
  
Legolas smiled with satisfaction and was about to reply when Aragorn said "WHAT?!"  
  
The elf threw him an irritated glance and opened his mouth, but was cut off by Gandalf: "What?!!!"  
  
"Yes, what?!" demanded Chemarit.  
  
"I said-" tried Legolas again but it was Gimli who continued:  
  
"Pardon me, but it is my turn. WHAT?!"  
  
"Irulan will be my wife," Legolas said, a little annoyed and yet enjoying the upper hand to the fullest.  
  
Another silence.  
  
"Why does that surprise you so?"  
  
The silence continued as the Prince looked from face to face.  
  
"Is it a strange thing to do? An outrageous thing?"  
  
Still no one spoke. Legolas was beyond himself with pleasure. "No brother and sister, Dernhelm. By all means, definitely no father and daughter. Friends? Most certainly. BEST friends," he said with amusement.  
  
"I-I......" stammered Dernhelm, but could not finish. Eowyn was desperately hoping for the Prince to like Irulan. Like, yes. Love? Oh YES! But.........marriage?! Irulan and the Prince?! Now that was something she, in all honesty, did not expect at all. It was something that exceeded even HER imagination. She glanced one by one at Chemarit, Gandalf and Gimli. But all three men -though they always insisted how experienced experts they were in the art of love- remained as shocked as she was.  
  
"Legolas," whispered Aragorn and the elf turned to look at the flabbergasted ranger.  
  
"Yes, Estel?" he said with a cool voice.  
  
"Sire," the man began again, and licked his lips. "I understand that you like her........very much.........but.........perhaps you need to give it time?"  
  
Legolas glanced at Irulan, who was unconsciously biting her nails again. "I have found my true match. Why wait and waste time when it is a time I could be spending with her?"  
  
"But.......you can still be with her........only.......I mean.........marriage?!"  
  
Legolas shrugged deftly. "If we will be like a married couple, I don't see why we should not be one in the first place," was his calm reply.  
  
"Well because........" began Aragorn, not sure how to continue, since that answer had rendered him speechless.  
  
"Besides........I will not dishonor Irulan by making her wait in the shadows. She has the right to enjoy every right a royal title can give her." He glanced over his shoulder at her again, then continued: "Also, I will need her wisdom in many things. No doubt that she will need a status to give her power, so that what she says will matter to others, too." He turned back to the company. "In short, she will be Queen of Ithilien. And the finest of all queens. I am blessed, indeed."  
  
Gandalf and Chemarit glanced at each other, while Dernhelm and Gimli did the same. Aragorn just kept looking at Legolas, many things clashing in his mind. It was shocking......it was extreme..........it was unbelievable.........and yet..........why did it sound so............right?  
  
"I take it that she knows these........plans of yours, then?" Dernhelm said, being the first one to find his voice again.  
  
That broke Legolas' confidence a little. He shifted on his feet, trying not to show it. "Not yet," he said a moment later.  
  
"I guessed so," was Chemarit's dry reply.  
  
"Why do you say that?" the Prince asked with curiosity.  
  
"Knowing Irulan, she would be galloping -and I mean on a HORSE- out of Ithilien this moment if she had any idea," he said, rolling his eyes.  
  
The Prince swallowed softly. "She would?" he said with an almost inaudible whisper.  
  
"Of course! She is such a coward, that woman!" Chemarit said. When he received a frosty look from Legolas, he hastily said "I mean.........she has many fears. Especially in these matters."  
  
"What is she afraid of?" Legolas said then.  
  
"Ah the usual damn things! And.......well I can't really blame her in that but........" he glanced at the Prince again, "She wants to be free. All her life she was anything but free. Your plans come with a certain........cage......shall we say"  
  
Legolas took a deep breath and pursed his lips. "I will not put her in a cage," he hissed then, to himself. "I intend to free her from one."  
  
There was a long, tense silence. Finally Gimli said what was on the mind of all: "Prince Legolas......forgive me for asking........but what if Lady Irulan refuses to be Queen?"  
  
Legolas looked at him for a long moment. Then his gaze wandered and locked with each man in the group as each felt amazed by the intensity of his attitude. The Ball continued around them in all its glamour and harmony, but none was aware of it momentarily. "Then I shall never be King, and my line shall end with me," he said finally, with a tone that said it was final. As strange as it was, all expected such a thing, so no tremors of shock ran through them this time. Instead, an aura of admiration and respect invaded them.  
  
And of course, Dernhelm had to push the limits yet. "What makes you think that your wish for marriage means more than mine? For one thing.........I know Irulan far better than you."  
  
"My spirit has known her since eternity. Your time with her is nothing in comparison," Legolas said, his fingers itching with the need of finding a sharp object and just cutting Dernhelm into pieces right there and then. His eyes glided over to Gimli and the dwarf motioned him to be calm. "Remember, Sire. No violence with an audience," he said softly.  
  
Legolas looked down to his boots. "I will not repeat myself over and over again. Leave now, and never come back. Irulan is lost to you."  
  
"Then I will have to win her back, won't I?" Dernhelm said with a bemused voice and both Gandalf and Chemarit felt the simultaneous need of kicking Eowyn. They had meant to heat up Legolas. And their plan had worked just fine. But the girl obviously knew not when to stop.  
  
'That's it!' thought Legolas then. 'I can only have this much patience.' "Do you want a duel?" he said as he took another step towards the man while Gimli inched himself between the two men for the sake of caution.  
  
"Duel?" Dernhelm said in confusion.  
  
"Yes. Any weapon. You can pick. It can be arranged right away."  
  
"Well......" said Dernhelm, a slight unease in his voice, "why would I engage in a duel that I am certain to lose, Prince of Ithilien?" The Prince just gave him a blistering look. "It would be foolish to fight a battle like that."  
  
"Than what do you want?" Legolas said and it was loud enough to reach Irulan and her company. She took a step towards them, but Haldir grabbed her elbow.  
  
"That would not be wise, Lady Irulan," he said slowly.  
  
"I want to speak to her," Dernhelm said with a cool composure.  
  
"About what?" the Prince said to that.  
  
"About me and her, of course," Dernhelm said with a smooth voice.  
  
Chemarit and Gandalf rolled their eyes and grabbed each of his arms. He shook them off. "No! It is my right. I am her friend."  
  
'This man is mad indeed' thought Legolas in amazement. "Very well," he said, and the struggle between the three men ceased. "You may speak to her." He told the others to remain, then turned around and walked towards Irulan, who looked like she was at the verge of death. Dernhelm followed as Haldir and Arwen, realizing the intention of the Prince before being told, glided over to Aragorn and the rest of the men and immediately began to engage in introductions, so that they would not be staring at the trio and appear downright rude.  
  
"Irulan!" the blonde man said and rushed by the Prince to grab her, kissing her on both cheeks with a mighty embrace. "How are you my love?!"  
  
"Dernhelm," squirmed the girl, trapped in his arms, "get off me!"  
  
He would not have obliged, of course, but his arm was twisted away and Eowyn had to bite her tongue to keep down a scream. He was pulled roughly away and found himself nose to nose with Legolas, who was holding him by the front of his shirt. "I said you can speak," he hissed. "Do not touch her!" With that, he pushed Dernhelm slightly away and stood closer to Irulan, holding her hand.  
  
"Irulan, we should leave," Dernhelm said, enjoying himself immensely at the furious look of the Prince, "Come on, love."  
  
"Dernhelm," she hissed, feeling quite angry herself, now, "it is high time YOU leave."  
  
Legolas, happy beyond anything, gently squeezed her hand and gave Dernhelm a bemused look. "You heard the lady," he said with a soft voice.  
  
"But what does that mean?" Dernhelm pressed on with mock surprise. "You have to return home, don't you?"  
  
Irulan, finally understanding what Eowyn was trying to do, could not help her mouth dropping open. Why, that little witch was determined to make Legolas keep her here for all eternity! After a moment of silence, she said "O-of course. But.......but Chemarit can take me back and-"  
  
Dernhelm crossed his arms on his chest and it was enough to cut her off. Irulan swallowed as she felt slowly being backed into the corner again. "Come on darling. You know what your family would do if you do not make it on time."  
  
"Dernhelm...." said Irulan with a warning tone.  
  
"What would her family do?" the Prince broke in then.  
  
"Nothing!" said Irulan, her eyes never leaving Dernhelm. "They will not find out, anyway."  
  
"Irulan, Irulan, Irulan," Eowyn said, snickering. She ignored the woman completely then, and turned to the Prince instead. "Have you seen where she lives?" The Prince nodded. "The least they will do is lock her up there for days without food or water." He watched the elf's eyes widen at that, then continued: "Of course they would also take away all her possessions and-"  
  
"That's ENOUGH!" bolted Irulan. "Like I have possessions!"  
  
"I mean the few books and dresses you have, Irulan."  
  
"Cut it out, will you!"  
  
"Not to mention-"  
  
"Enough, Dernhelm!" she hissed.  
  
"Not to mention what?" Legolas said then.  
  
"Legolas, it's nothing. Please let us just-"  
  
"So she has not told you?"  
  
"What is this about?" the elf said then, ignoring Irulan too, pure determination on his face.  
  
Irulan's shoulders sagged. "Where do you think I have met her? I saved this woman, dear Prince! Her family forced her to work in the cheapest and lowest inn of Ithilien. Only during the day, yes, but believe me it is horrible enough. The men there-..."  
  
"WHAT?!" exclaimed Legolas.  
  
"It was only for a summer. When I had to pay back for something I broke. And it was not half as bad!" she protested, looking at Eowyn with murderous eyes. "And as a matter of fact, me and my friend EOWYN," she said, stepping closer to the man, "enjoyed that summer very much. It felt good to be out of the house and doing something different. And the owner of the place was very nice and-"  
  
"And he tried to hit on you, if my memory does not fail me," Dernhelm said smoothly.  
  
Legolas turned to her with widened eyes. "Is that true?" he said softly.  
  
"NO! I mean.........he was drunk."  
  
"Like everyone else in that place," the blonde man cut in.  
  
"Dernhelm, I will personally-"  
  
Dernhelm cleared his throat then and waved his finger at her, as a warning of any unbefitting words. She opened her mouth for a truly nasty speech when the man addressed the Prince once more: "Prince Legolas, I need to speak with you in private. It will only be a few minutes."  
  
Legolas, his eyes set on Irulan, very unwillingly turned them away from her and looked at his rival for a long moment. Then he nodded curtly and motioned for the man to lead, as they began to walk towards the exit of the garden, leaving a blistering Irulan behind.  
  
"Prince Legolas," he began, giving him a sidelong glance, "I can see that you mean everything you said about Irulan. And I can also see that you are more capable of doing those things than I am." The Prince stared back in shock. If he had ANY thoughts about this man being sane -which he did not- they disappeared right then. "Therefore, I will agree to...disappear. And not insist on my claim concerning her." He looked ahead and took a deep breath.  
  
"If?" Legolas said then.  
  
"If you will not let her return home."  
  
Legolas halted then, and Dernhelm followed his example, looking at Irulan over his shoulder. Then he stared at the Prince and the Prince stared back as a part of Eowyn felt downright sad at the idea that she would never be able to confront Legolas like this, again. Next time they would meet, she would be a simple servant girl. And there were so many things she had intended to talk with him about! To ask him! About the world. About Ithilien, about battle. She sighed and looked away, knowing that her current identity would not allow such conversation, either. She had had one chance, and she had used that for Irulan. And she felt not the slightest regret about it.  
  
"Know it to be so," Legolas said, trying to understand this man before him and failing.  
  
Dernhelm nodded and looked down. "Do you really intend to marry her?"  
  
Legolas replied with a determined "Yes."  
  
The blonde man grinned a beautiful grin. "It will not be easy, you know." The elf nodded curtly, his determination only growing at that. "Though you do not need it, I feel tempted to say it anyway: She may fight. She may cry. She may reason or pretend or insist. She may even threaten. There is only one thing you have to do. And do it to the very end: Ignore - it - all."  
  
Legolas, astonished by that speech, just stared back at Dernhelm. "Irulan never knows what is good for her," the man said then. "She is lucky because she is surrounded by people who do." With that, Dernhelm smiled one last time and walked into the palace, disappearing from sight. Legolas looked after him for some moments, not knowing what to make of it.  
  
It was their destiny to meet yet again in the future, though Legolas never discovered his true identity. Eowyn continued stepping into her disguise any time Gandalf showed up and she used it to visit the Prince, every time causing a small earthquake in Legolas' life. Dernhelm insisted that his performances always meant and eventually did good, but his ways remained unparalleled and as drastic as the first day he came to exist. His relationship with Legolas became the perfect example for respectful hate. But most of the time, Eowyn used her disguise to travel through Middle Earth, to play part in wondrous adventures and as ironic as it was, while Eowyn the woman remained as plain as she always had been, Dernhelm the man became a hero of impressive reputation.  
  
"Legolas," a voice said suddenly, "what is happening?"  
  
The elf turned to look at Irulan, who, at the edge of certain death now, stood rooted a few steps behind him. He smiled softly and held out his hand. "Nothing, Irulan. We were talking." She held his hand as Legolas pulled her to his side and embraced her waist again.  
  
"About what?" Irulan said a moment later, feeling too anxious at the moment to care about manners.  
  
"About the future of Ithilien," he said then, his blue eyes fixed on her.  
  
"Oh," was her soft reply to that and she decided to remain silent as the elf gently caressed her back.  
  
"Worry not. It is taken care of. He would not dare to bother you again." Irulan bit her lip and looked in the direction the man had disappeared. "Soon, no one will," Legolas added then and she looked up at him.  
  
"What do you mean?" she said, confused.  
  
"That I shall protect you from all," he said gently.  
  
"Do I need a protector?" Irulan said, now even more confused.  
  
"Nay. But I suppose I need someone to protect," the elf sighed then.  
  
She glanced back at Aragorn and the man smiled, his eyes dipped in confusion and yet relief. His smile grew wider and for the first time he looked at Irulan with something that she could only describe as a friendly gaze. And it felt.......strange but amazing.  
  
"Come, I have other things to show you yet," the Prince said then, pulling her along and Irulan followed, gazing from Gimli to Aragorn and back until she lost sight of them in the crowd. 


	21. Chaos Unleashed

The story seems to have no ending!  
  
Do not worry, it has. Though...as usual..I feel the need to twist and turn it again and again before we reach it. Perhaps it is simply too much admiration for Shakespeare. Or perhaps it is because it reflects my twisted state of mind!  
  
In any case, since this is about humor and romance and a complete fluff and I am not trying to make a serious scientific or sociological or political point - what is the rush?  
  
A tribute to Galadriel and Gimli coming up. Besides, for anyone doubting the line of events, they may check back on chapter two. It is there, trust me.  
  
*******  
  
"What is this place?" she said as they walked up the winding stairs in total darkness, higher and higher. She felt her hand colliding with torches along the way, but they were not lighted today, and the moonlight coming in from the small slits serving as windows was not illuminating at all.  
  
"I will not tell. We will be there shortly."  
  
"Legolas...are you even aware that I am human?" she said with iritation.  
  
"Certainly. What is the matter, Irulan?" was the confused reply in the dark.  
  
"It's too dark! I can't see anything!"  
  
"Oh...Worry not. I can see well."  
  
Irulan smirked and felt him holding her hand tighter. "In that case," she said, her lungs burning with the effort of running up a seemingly endless string of stairs, "are you aware that I am a WOMAN?!" she hissed with irritation.  
  
She ran into him as he stopped aprubtly. Gaining her balance again, Irulan took a step back and, standing slightly lower than him, waited with discomfort for the explanation of this sudden halt. She felt very nervous standing in the dark in such a tight place. Her anxiety quickly became shock at the feeling of his lips on her cheek while instantly she felt his arm encircling her waist and pulling her closer. Irulan's hand flew up on its own accord and tentatively found his face as Legolas gently kissed the corner of her lips and her cheek and her eyebrow. He held her hand then, as it rested on his own cheek and slowly kissed each fingertip. Irulan felt strangely excited by that more than anything else and she swallowed hard, swaying at the edge of losing all reason.  
  
"I am VERY aware of that, Irulan," he whispered when he was finished and both of her hands were enclosed in his warm grip.  
  
Irulan blushed a deep red and hoped that his sight was not sharp enough to pick that up. She pushed herself a little back and swallowed, looking away, not sure what to say. "You...you never tire," was the final comment, her voice very low and intimidated.  
  
Legolas blinked in surprise. "Ah," he said a moment later, "now I see! My excitement has gotten the better of me!"  
  
He swiftly picked her up and resumed his ascend on the steps. Irulan, surprised by the action and the speed of it, clutched at him, afraid of the dark abyss of steep steps around her. "What are you doing?" she said in surpressed fear.  
  
"Making amends," was his soft answer as his warm breath washed over her. She remained silent for a moment, thinking that she had not been carried by anyone ever since her father had died. It felt...good. It felt safe. And warm. And then she thought how odd it was that Legolas had managed to close a long, dark gap of her life. It felt as if she had fallen asleep with her father's death until, like in some silly tale, Legolas had kissed her one thunderous day and woken her up to a new and promising life. She could not help herself holding him a little tighter, afraid that she would wake up in her basement room to see that it had all been nothing but a dream.  
  
"Do not be afraid," he whispered gently.  
  
Irulan chuckled. "Legolas...on the contrary - I have not felt this fearless for a very, very long time."  
  
The elf remained silent at that, his heart beating so loud to his own ears, that it seemed to echo and bounce off the walls, thundering in the place. Though Irulan heard none of it, he was certain that she did. "It feels good to be the reason of that," he said finally, thinking himself stupid, but unable to come up with anything else at the moment.  
  
"What a strange thing it is," she said, in a dreamy voice as Legolas slowed his steps so that the moment between them would last longer, "that your path and mine have crossed and led us here."  
  
The Prince nodded softly, though Irulan saw none of it. "Aye. The Valar have a sense of humor."  
  
Irulan blinked, then chuckled at that. "Indeed!" Suddenly a thought occured to her: "Legolas, how did you find me?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean when I left you and Captain Boromir behind...to go to the tailor shop...I stopped on my way for several moments. When I realized that I have offended the PRINCE, that is!"  
  
"You have not offended me," he intervened gently, slowing even further, knowing that the steps would be coming to an end too soon.  
  
Irulan waved the argument away and continued: "I looked and you were nowhere to be seen. And...and I was in the shop for several minutes before you came. You must have lost sight of me for sure in the meantime. How did you know I was in that particular shop?"  
  
Legolas laughed at that. "I would not tell," was his final and amused response.  
  
"Please do!" Irulan groaned with open curiosity.  
  
"Nay, Irulan. I might need it to find you again in the future. Who knows?" he said with mock determination.  
  
"Please!" she insisted and even bounced a little in his arms.  
  
His laughter echoed again in the dark tower at her childish behaviour. "What shall be my gain in this bargain, then?"  
  
"My gratitude?"  
  
"Though it is certainly a lot, I am tempted to ask for more," he said slyly.  
  
"Right," she countered, irritated. "Keep it to yourself, then!"  
  
"Very well," was his calm answer. They continued in silence.  
  
Before long, Irulan burst: "What do you want?!"  
  
He surpressed a laughter. "Let me see...if I am to dispose of such valuable information, I should get something priceless in return, should I not?" Irulan rolled her eyes in the darkness. "You have everything, anyway," was her annoyed comment.  
  
"That is not true," he said softly. "As a matter of fact, I have everything BUT what I want."  
  
Irulan smiled in amusement. "Ah, now I know what it is you desire!"  
  
"You do?"  
  
She nodded and grinned. "You want a single hair from my head!"  
  
Legolas laughed with such enthusiasm, that it took him several moments to find his voice again: "Precisely! Would my lady endow me with such a gift?"  
  
"It is yours, Prince Legolas," Irulan said with a royal attitude.  
  
"Very well then," he chuckled. "I followed your footsteps."  
  
"My FOOTSTEPS?!"  
  
"Aye."  
  
"How do you mean?" she said in confusion.  
  
"Well...I recall that it was very crowded that day. And yet...amongst all those women...you were easy to find, Irulan," the elf said, in a mixture of amusement and delight as the woman in his arms listened with dee concentration. "You seemed to be the only one who had...stepped quite efficiently into a large amount of mud."  
  
"W-what?!"  
  
"It is true. I followed your footsteps."  
  
Irulan thought back on the day. She remembered falling and sitting into the mud with Boromir's collision. And then...oh yes, indeed! She had taken a step back while talking to the Prince...and ended up stepping into a mud pool! Though she had been too intimidated at the moment, she had still felt the mud seeping through her soles.  
  
"I can't believe it!" she said finally. An image of Legolas following her very much like tracking a wild animal came to her suddenly and forced her into a moan. "You must have thought me so...so..."  
  
"Unique," Legolas cut in softly and halted, having arrived at his destination. "I thought you unique, Irulan. And in that, I was not mistaken." Even though it was still dark, she felt his gaze resting on her.  
  
"Neither were you when you said that the Valar have a sense of humor," was her dry reply.  
  
Legolas smiled and gently lowered her down, then. "We have arrived," he said with a low voice.  
  
Irulan reached out and touched something of softer texture and she guessed it to be a wooden door. She pushed slightly and it creaked open. The fainter glow of the moonlit night washed over them as she took another step and found herself on the top of one of the tallest towers in the castle. She walked further in and Legolas followed with silent steps. The wooden skeleton of a dome-like structure towered above her, a vine having thickly covered it. Then she noticed the cages. Dozens of them. They lay open, pigeons sleeping inside their fine beauty.  
  
"We still use these pigeons for long distance communication. They are trained by the best," he said behind her.  
  
Irulan watched the silent sleep of the birds as the moonlight danced over them. "Why are the doors open?" she whispered, oddly afraid to wake the animals.  
  
Legolas frowned at the strange question. "Why would they be closed?"  
  
"To keep them in of course," she turned to him.  
  
The elf stepped closer then and looked down at her. "That would make it a cage," he whispered, his eyes looking even more blue under this light.  
  
"Isn't that what it is?" Irulan asked, feeling oddly enchanted.  
  
The Prince shook his head, his gaze never leaving hers. "It is home, Irulan. And they are free to leave any time they wish. But they return every time, to seek its safety and warmness." She turned to regard the open cages and the sleeping birds in them. They looked so peaceful! Legolas came to stand behind her again, softly stroking her back. A long time later she turned to look up to him, smiling.  
  
"Where is my reward?" the elf whispered.  
  
Irulan reached up to undo her hair that was pinned up, but his hands stilled hers. "No," he said softly, "allow me." She halted in hesitation and the Prince smiled and pulled her hands down, then reached up and slowly began to pull out the long pins holding her hair.  
  
It was expected to be an innocent act. But it was oddly not innocent in the slightest. Irulan entwined her fingers and clenched her hands as he began a torturously slow process of undoing her hair. The music of the Ball was streaming up to them in distant, soft waves - one moment there, the next gone as the breeze blew from another direction and stilled the sound. She tried very hard to think of other things, but it was impossible while the elf's fingers glided through her hair, gently undoing her pin-up. No, she would NOT reach up and tear the rest out. It would look most stupid. She bit her lip and sighed deeply as slowly her long hair fell out and Legolas combed it through, gliding his fingers through it, down to the ends.  
  
It seemed like a century had passed when he was finally finished. "Are you finished?" she said then, still whispering in fear of waking the birds.  
  
"I am," said Legolas a long moment later.  
  
Irulan sighed and looked up, only to see him gazing down at her with that most unnerving look. "How we will ever put it up again, I have no idea!" she said with a nervous edge, trying to sound funny.  
  
Legolas looked at the pins in his hand. "It might surpass my abilities, I'm afraid."  
  
Irulan laughed softly. "Now you've done it!"  
  
"No matter," he said then, combing his fingers through it again, "It looks beautiful in any fashion."  
  
Irulan reached up and sorted out a single one. Then she thought for a moment, and added two to it. Breaking them as close to the root as possible, she carefully guided them away from the rest and after holding it up a little to make sure that all three were still between her fingers, she handed them to Legolas, who was watching her with silent curiosity.  
  
"There. You asked for one. I shall give you three, dear Prince," she said, amused.  
  
He folded his fingers around her hand that was still holding the strands. "And I am most grateful for that," he said, smiling.  
  
Irulan looked at him for a long time. And he looked back, not moving in fear that it would end their intimacy. Finally she sighed. "How come you are here with me, Legolas?" she said finally.  
  
The Prince blinked at that. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean," Irulan said and sighed again, her gaze sweeping around, lingering on the cages, the moon and the railing that stood further away. "I mean, don't you have duties...as a Prince?"  
  
The man smiled and shrugged gracefully. "It is a Ball for entertainment. I would say that my duty this day is to feel entertained. I am only true to that." He took the strands of hair from between her fingers and carefully folding them, placed the bundle in one of his inner pockets under the inspection of Irulan, who thought that Legolas was sometimes more child than man.  
  
She smiled and shook her head. "I am happy to be the cause of that. Believe me, I am. But, I am also somewhat...confused," she finished. The elf opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand. "What I mean is...it is an honor and true happiness to be with you. But...I don't know what it means to you. I mean...I mean why would you...considering that..."  
  
"I love you," he said then, and though he said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he would say perhaps a sentence like "It is raining", his words drained Irulan of any sentiment and reason. She looked up at him in shock and he looked back in innocence and yet slight alarm, wondering if this was the part she would jump on a horse and gallop out of Ithilien.  
  
Irulan remained flabbergasted, her hand lost in his, her eyes unable to leave his. "Did you think I would share this much intimacy for any other reason?" he said then, a little surprised at her own surprise.  
  
Irulan swallowed hard. "A-as a matter of fact...I...I did," she whispered while the world seemed to grow shade darker in her eyes.  
  
The elf cocked his head and his gaze penetrated her very soul. "Do you think me so superficial, Irulan?"  
  
"I...I...NO!" she blushed in shame before she continued. "No, Legolas. I just...I thought you were," she tried to find the right word, waving her arms as if that would help, then finished by saying "...kind." In her confusion Irulan failed to come up with anything better and stammered on: "VERY kind. That's all."  
  
Legolas' eyebrows rose in amazement. "Kind?!" he said, surprise as well as amusement at her naivety evident in his voice now. "Not that I was trying to be anything less...but...'kind'?"  
  
"Well...I mean how was I to know...I mean...you are an elf...a-and the Prince...and so I thought..."  
  
"I think my behavior was misleading," he cut in with a grin. "Perhaps I was indeed too *kind* and gave the wrong impression. I shall make amends," was his suggestive comment as he took a step towards her.  
  
Irulan, abashed by his boldness, took one back, and this bewildered state of hers pleased Legolas a lot. "NO! I mean...it was only stupidity on my behalf. I...I suppose I didn't dare to think more of it." She swallowed, feeling sweat forming on her back and her knees growing weaker as the world once again became a shade darker.  
  
"I love you," he repeated finally, his voice gaining a serious edge and Irulan, who was blushing a moment ago, lost all color on her face. The man, alarmed again at that reaction, took another step towards her, but she took another back, and unlike a moment ago, this did not serve to please Legolas. At all. He stood looking at her for a long time, surprised that Irulan was surprised in the first place. "I have loved you ever since you spoke my name that day in the forest. Perhaps far before that. And I shall love you for all time. Perhaps far after that," he said gently. "Irulan," he continued with caution, "no judgment. No prejudice. Please do not jump to any conclusions as to what that could mean for you. I assure you that it means none of your fears."  
  
"Sssshhhh," was the hiss of a reply as the woman placed her fingers on her temples. Legolas froze in his step and remained watching her, alarmed.  
  
Irulan tried to clear up the jumble in her head. She took a deep breath and decided to do that step by step. Step 1 - Legolas was the Prince of Ithilien. Step 2 - Irulan was a servant with no name. Step 3 - Legolas loved her. No, wait...that couldn't be right! Something in this equation was VERY wrong. So she took another deep breath and began to repeat the steps, but no matter how many times she did so, with the third step, all chaos kept breaking in her and she was simply...lost.  
  
"Forgive me for saying it like that," the elf intervened then, unable to keep his silence any longer in the face of her shock. "It was not my intention. But...I thought you knew."  
  
'How could she not know?', he wondered silently. Did Irulan really think that he was acting like this around every woman? Kissing his way through the crowd?  
  
When she looked up again she was so blanched that he lost all reason at that sight. "I...I think...I feel a little..."  
  
"Are you ill?!" he cut her off anxiously. There was something about Legolas that Irulan had no way of knowing: if there was anything that scared the Prince of Ithilien, it was ironically not orcs or evil; neither death nor battle, but this mysterious and strange thing called sickness. Though it was a matter of slight terror for all elves, Prince Legolas had feelings towards it that exceeded the definition of 'fear'. Perhaps it was the normal result for an elf surrounded by humans all the time. Or perhaps it was just a personal phobia. But the idea that a person might fall prey to something that could not be picked up by the senses, and suffer considerably under it - even to the extend of death, was the idea of pure terror for Legolas, whose only experience resembling human illness could be described as nausea or a slight headache.  
  
"I think I might be," she said as the world seemed to sway and tilt around her. Or perhaps it was herself who was swaying.  
  
Legolas paled visibly as he walked up to her and softly grabbed her elbow. "What must we do?!" he hissed, the alarm in his voice evident.  
  
Irulan, taken a little aback by his drastic reaction to such a mild thing just looked up at him for a moment. "N-nothing," she said cautiously. "I'll be fine. Give me a moment."  
  
"No!" She flinched at the urgency of it and tried to step away, but the elf was holding her as if he was holding on to his dear life. "Tell me how you feel," he added a moment later, a little softer.  
  
"I...I..." Irulan tried to separate her emotions from her physical symptoms. "A little dizzy, I suppose." At the man's unsatisfied gaze, she felt like she had to elaborate further: "My throat is a little dry. I am fine, Legolas. I am just...confused."  
  
The elf ignored the last part of that statement and gently placed his palm on her forehead. She felt warm to the touch. But he didn't know if the degree of it under the current circumstances was too much or not. The panic of truly facing a case of illness began to bloom in him, then. "You feel warm, Irulan."  
  
"Of course I do! I am yet alive, you know," she snorted, amused by his panic at such a simple thing, and also a little happy that the conversation had taken a different direction. The idea that Legolas loved her was...Irulan swiftly diverted her thoughts from that area.  
  
Her attempt at humor was a mistake. A big one. Contrary to her expectance, Legolas' eyes widened even further at that. "What does that mean?!" he hissed and unconsciously strengthened his grip on her.  
  
"Legolas!" she yelped and freed her arm from his grip. As dizzy as she was, it was better to sway and fall than to continue this ridiculous state of things! "I am fine, I tell you!"  
  
"Then why are you so warm?" he insisted and grabbed her arm again. His other hand found hers and if he was not certain before, now he knew without doubt that she was ill. "And why are your hands so cold?!"  
  
Irulan tried to free herself, but her struggle was useless. "We must immediately go to the healers!" Legolas said as gentle as possible, trying to calm himself more than he was trying to calm her.  
  
"Have you lost your mind?" was her annoyed reply.  
  
"I am about to!" he exclaimed and she just stared back in amazement. "Come, let us go," was the softer comment as he tried to pull her along.  
  
"Legolas, wait," Irulan said and planted her feet. She brought her hand to her temple again where a headache was beginning. The worst part was that she DID indeed feel dizzy.  
  
"What is it?" was his impatient and frustrated question.  
  
"Just...let me sit for a minute," Irulan moaned, and then swayed under the elf's grip. Considering the string of events of the day, it was perhaps perfectly natural for her to feel a little agitated from so much overload. But the reaction was exactly what Legolas had been afraid of.  
  
"That's it!" the man said and swiftly picked her up, walking towards the door. He entered the dark staircase with long strides. "You are ill!" One moment they were under the moonlight, the next they were in the darkness again, and Irulan could only hold on with fear as the elf began a fast descend of the staircase. "The Valar help me! What will I do?!" he whispered in frustration and held on stronger to her.  
  
"Legolas, you are exaggerating! I am not ill, I tell you!"  
  
The elf barely heard her. His phobia seemed to press on him with immense pressure and he himself felt dizzy under its push. Something...something horrible was going on in her physical body at this very moment! Something was spreading there...claiming her...and threatening her very life! And he was completely incapable of doing anything about it! Not only couldn't he comprehend the nature of illness (though he had read about it to an impressive extend and keenly observed it around him), he also failed to imagine a force of such sinister and powerful nature. The idea that Irulan was under attack at the moment with no visible or perceivable enemy, made him nervous beyond anything.  
  
Irulan gave up on arguing as he strode out from the tower in a matter of minutes while it had taken them a much longer time to ascend the same building. He took a left turn and proceeded down a corridor. It was lined with torches and she looked up to see the anxiety on his usually calm features. Under different circumstances it would have been extremely funny of him to panic at such a thing! "Legolas," she began gently, but he cut her off:  
  
"Do not exert yourself! We will be there in no time."  
  
She rolled her eyes and moaned with frustration and that only served him to hasten his steps further, for he was convinced at this point that her moan could not be a good sign.  
  
"This is so...so...damn frustrating!" she yelped, the humor of the situation fading as the elf seemed to refuse to come to his senses.  
  
"Sssssshhhh," he soothed in reply and took another turn. "Do not be afraid. The best healers of Ithilien are residing in this palace. You will be fine, Irulan."  
  
"You don't say!" was the sarcastic comment.  
  
"Don't you think otherwise!" thundered Legolas and she jumped despite herself.  
  
"You...you..." she stammered with anger, clutching at her heart, "Aaarrggghhhhh!!! The Valar help me!"  
  
At that, to her utter dismay, Legolas broke into a run.  
  
******  
  
When they finally arrived at the House of Healers the Prince was so worked up about the event that he caused a startling uproar in the place where the healers -thinking that their aid would not be needed tonight- were having a calm and splendid night. When he arrived in person with a woman in his arms, and on this night of all nights, they were instantly convinced that this was a matter of life and death. Now panicked themselves, they literally tore Irulan from his arms and in a mad whirl took her to one of the rooms while the Prince followed at their heels.  
  
Irulan first decided that she would simply stay calm until they all cooled down, and then very slowly explain the situation to them. Or she could just lie here until they were through with their examinations and that would give them the answer they needed. But as the number of hands touching her grew, she became more and more agitated. By the time they decided to undress her to see if she had any physical signs, she was beyond fury and clutched at her gown as if it was the Ring of Power.  
  
"WHAT?! STAY AWAY FROM ME!!!"  
  
"Lady Irulan," three voices began simultaneously, trying to calm her down, but Irulan was beyond that stage now.  
  
"I WANT EVERY MAN TO LEAVE THIS ROOM. NOW!!!" She yelled, still clutching at her gown. The crowd blinked to that and after a moment of shock, followed by a blush on the face of the men in the room, a hasty dispersion began.  
  
She locked eyes with Legolas, who was standing behind the healers, trying to understand the happenings and added "You too!" with a dangerous tone. Legolas swallowed softly and, thanking the fact that elves did not blush, nodded and swiftly exited as well.  
  
Left with only the women -at by the looks of it, a tough bunch of them, too- she took a deep breath and unclenched her fingers from her gown. Her headache along with the dizziness seemed to have increased - no doubt, due to these drastic circumstances. On top of if all, she felt also nauseous because all the fruit she had eaten earlier had begun to protest under the current pressure. "Now listen," she said with a low voice as the healers waited in a patient semi-circle around her bed, "I am not ill."  
  
"I believe that is for us to say, child," said an old woman amongst them and Irulan rolled her eyes, realizing that this one was just the type to be difficult. "The Prince said-"  
  
"Forget about what he said!" she yelped in desperation. "What would Legolas know about illness, anyway?!"  
  
Her statement caused a silence in the room. She glanced up to look at the shocked expressions and instantly understood that she had made a mistake by talking about His Majesty in that manner. Especially without using his title.  
  
"She...she must be delirious!" a younger woman whispered finally. "His Highness will forgive her, no doubt."  
  
Irulan rolled her eyes and clutched at her stomach, trying to force the food down. "Do not make me kick you all!" she said with dark anger. "I said I am fine!"  
  
At the mention of kicking, a twinkle appeared in the eyes of the healers. They swiftly parted and -to Irulan's fascination- acting very much as if they were one single organism, some walked briskly to the adjoining room, a moment later appearing with pieces of rope-like fabrics in their hands while the rest approached the bed with calm but careful steps and...threw themselves on her!  
  
Irulan had no time to register what was happening before she felt herself tied down by hand and feet and when she realized that she was trapped now for good, she began to thrash wildly, screaming in horror at such a capture.  
  
Legolas broke in at her screaming and seeing her state, paled about two shades in a matter of seconds. "What is happening here?!" he said slowly.  
  
"Sire, she is not well. Disregard anything she says," the old woman replied and his eyes widened at that.  
  
"Legolas! Free me! NOW!" yelled Irulan, still thrashing. The elf swiftly approached the bed and hesitating for a moment, leaned down and gently caressed her cheek.  
  
"Irulan, please cease your struggle. You will be fine, I promise."  
  
Irulan pulled a little more, but her ties refused to give in. Not sure if she should laugh or cry at the turn of events, she began to do both to the utter shock of the elf. "Legolas...in that case," she laughed as tears rolled down her eyes, "I urge...I urge you...NEVER to take these off again!" Irulan broke into an even louder laughter as everyone froze in the room, silently observing her state. "For...for I shall...oh no doubt...I shall...KICK YOU TO DEATH, PRINCE OF ITHILIEN!"  
  
She laughed harder, thinking that now she was sick for real, as the women hastily pushed a bewildered Legolas out of the room and this time barred the door behind him.  
  
****  
  
When Irulan woke up, a soft shade of morning light was streaming in through the windows. She swallowed and closed her eyes as the unexpected whiteness invaded her brain. Her limbs seemed heavier and she felt oddly...depleted. She swallowed once more and thought that she should go and feed the chickens now, when all of a sudden the idea of how it could be this bright in her room blinked in the back of her mind.  
  
And then she remembered everything at once.  
  
With a sudden burst of panic, she tried to sit up, but was held down by a force.  
  
"Irulan, calm down," a voice said to her right and she instantly recognized it to be the voice of Legolas.  
  
"Legolas! Wh-what happened?" she said in perfect horror as her mind slowly woke up, only to realize that she was lying in a bed with the elf lying behind her, his arm over her waist, gently pressing her down. At least it was not the room the healers had attacked her in (to say the least), and she was not tied to the bed any longer.  
  
"Sssshhhhh, you are fine now," he said softly and pushed her down. Irulan obeyed as he rose on his elbow, looking down at her. After a moment of inspection, he gently stroked her hair. "You were ill, but it is over now," he whispered. Irulan, more and more of the former night coming back to her now, tried to sit up again, only to be pushed down by his arm. "What is it?" he said then and when she realized the alarm in his voice, the thought of those healers tying her down again appeared in her mind. Irulan instantly ceased all struggle.  
  
"I...I am thirsty," she said and exhaled with relief when he smiled and got up to fill her a glass of water from a pitcher that stood across the room.  
  
Legolas waited patiently for her to finish the water, then took the cup from her hand and placed it on the ground as he sat on the edge of the bed. Irulan realized that he was still wearing his attire from the former night while she seemed to have changed into something that resembled a nightshift. "How are you feeling now?" was the cautious question.  
  
She decided right there and then that she would NOT insist on not being ill, anymore. It was time to accept the rules and play by them. "I am far better," she said, trying to be calm and not sprint out of the room in panic. He nodded with satisfaction and then surprised her by leaning in and kissing her with both passion and a tinge of desperation on the lips. The elf gently embraced her then, and remained like that for a moment, kissing her cheeks and neck over and over again.  
  
"I was so worried!" he mumbled into her neck and for the first time, Irulan felt like comforting him instead of the other way around. She embraced his shoulders and slowly stroked his back.  
  
"It is alright, Legolas. I think...I was too tired. Everything just added to the stress and...well...it is over now," she finished hastily.  
  
Legolas kissed her neck again. And again. Then slowly pulled back and gave her a long look. "Have I played part in it?"  
  
"What?! NO! It was all this business with Dernhelm and-" she hastily bit her lip and silenced herself. "I am well!" she finished a moment later, with enthusiasm. She pushed the covers away to get up. "I really am. And...it is high time for me to return! As a matter of fact, I am beyond late already and...-"  
  
"What do you think you are doing?" came his calm voice and Irulan froze. Pushing down any emotional display on her features, she turned to look at him.  
  
"Going home, of course," was her slow reply.  
  
Legolas looked at her for a long moment. Then finally he patted the spot she had just left and said softly "Come, lie back, Irulan. You are not in the state of going anywhere."  
  
Irulan felt the rise of panic, but fought it with all her might. "Legolas," she said, her voice raw, "you of all people should not hinder me now. Believe me, you do not want me to be any more late than I already am."  
  
The Prince pursed his lips and looked away for a moment. When he locked eyes with her once more, Irulan knew that she was bound to lose the argument. "You can not go. I will go personally to explain, if you wish. I will take anything you deem necessary for an apology. Tell me what it is, and I will do it. But you can NOT go back."  
  
Irulan gripped the covers in frustration and made a silent vow to kick Eowyn senseless next time she saw her. Or him. Or whatever! "Why won't you understand?!" she seethed finally, her temper boiling against all her control. "Do you think I LOVE it there? Do you think I look forward to whatever punishment I will probably receive for coming here yesterday?"  
  
"Then why do you wish to return?"  
  
"I have nowhere else to go, damn it!" she yelped and Legolas watched in amazement as she banged her fist on her knee -in lack of any other object in her reach- then hastily massaged the spot, her face betraying annoyance and pain.  
  
The Prince took a deep breath. 'It's now or never,' he thought. "You have a place to stay. Here. I want you to stay. I INSIST, Irulan." When she crossed her arms and looked away, he gently touched her shoulder. "If you will not do it for yourself, please do it for me."  
  
"Legolas," was the tired sigh of a reply, "you do not understand. If I don't go back now, I dare not go back. EVER. Sure...I can stay here," she said and waved her arms to include the room. "I would love to! But do you even think beyond a day? A week? A MONTH, Legolas?"  
  
Anyone else would think her insulting the Prince, who, as a ruler of such a large territory had no doubt thought YEARS and decades ahead already. But the elf thought that no insult at all. Besides, he was too busy thinking of a way to say what he wanted to say without causing another illness attack.  
  
"Aye, I do," he whispered finally and reached out to hold her hand. Irulan remained staring back, urging him to continue about what this great plan of his was. "It is simple, really...You can stay here always," he finished, his fingers caressing her skin.  
  
"And do exactly what?" she asked with a tinge of temper.  
  
The elf swallowed softly. "Serve Ithilien. Like me."  
  
Irulan thought about that for a moment. Any service she would do here would prove to be far more useful than her service at home. And if she worked -meaning, worked officially- well, that would give her the freedom to quit any time she wanted to, would it not? "Well," she said after a pause, "I can work hard. But do you think I would be fitting for palace standards?"  
  
Legolas almost rolled his eyes for the first time in his entire life. "Actually I had another opening in mind," he said then. And why on earth did it feel so damn dangerous?  
  
"Are you planning to stretch the limits of my patience while you are at it? Tell me already!"  
  
"I am certain that you will come to like it, Irulan," he added, perhaps a little too anxious. "You must trust me in this."  
  
Irulan smiled slowly. "Of course I trust you." She lightly squeezed his hand and Legolas swallowed, feeling oddly guilty. "I know you would not put me in any unbefitting position. So tell me..." she said playfully with a sly grin, "...you free me from my family. You find me a place to stay. You even find me a job! And a good one at that, too. What is the catch, Legolas?"  
  
The elf closed his eyes for a moment. He tried to imagine himself in the face of Sauron's armies as they streamed in over the hills like a plague. He tried to think himself at the verge of battle and possible death. The stink of evil surrounding him, the darkness pressing on him. It seemed to work. A little. When he looked up again, Irulan felt a slight faltering of her heart at his blank and determined expression. He looked at her for a long moment, and unable to move, she stared back, a slight fear finding its way to her heart, although there absolutely seemed to be no reason for such a thing.  
  
"You have to marry me," was the late reply.  
  
*** 


	22. Interlude, Time is Frozen

THANK YOU ALL FOR THE REVIEWS!

You are all amazing. And the only reason that keeps me going. Honest. 

I know we all hate it when Irulan takes the crap from Legolas. But I guess 1 – it is only natural, considering that she is used to being a servant while she is facing the Prince of Ithilien. And 2 – we have to torture her enough so that she will burst, right?

In any case........the intimacy following might seem too boring for some. I thought it was necessary. This is, after all, a fluffy romance. And perhaps, being a tale, they were supposed to get wed first and all that........but.......it is my STILL my distorted version of the story. So it is only understandable.

Act 22. Let us delve into some romance here. 

If not for his tone and expression, Irulan would have exploded with laughter, thinking that Legolas' sense of humor was indeed improving by the day. As it was, she just heard the words clinking on the surface of the chamber as if they were solid objects. But her mind refused to understand them. A very long moment passed, during which she tried again and again, and failed. "What do you mean?" she said then, confused at being confused so. 

"I have the perfect profession for you," Legolas tried again, as he felt more confident in her lack of response. To be honest, he had expected something of terrible nature to happen. "You shall be Queen of Ithilien."

Irulan remained looking at him, and he looked back, not sure what to do or say. Never in his life had he felt so anxious of rejection. "W-what do you-"

"Marry me, Irulan. Together, we shall rule Ithilien. If you are to be by my side, I know I will overcome anything and everything. We shall bring peace and splendor to the world. We shall bring love and tolerance." He slowly inched closer to her, cautious not to alarm her. "It is your destiny," he whispered a moment later. "And I am blessed that it involves me in the slightest."

She remained silent and Legolas, not sure if he should fetch someone or take advantage of the situation, decided on the later and continued to say what was on his heart: "I know it is a little unexpected for you..........but you can have all the time you need. Stay here with me, and give me a chance to persuade you. A single chance. If you wish to decline then, I shall not stand in your way."

She jumped away from the bed so fast, even Legolas with his elven reflexes was too slow to stop her. He was on his feet an instant later, rooted to his spot, observing her reaction. 

"A fine start this is!" Irulan said a moment later, her fingers massaging her temple. "I come to the castle, and you start by throwing Dernhelm around....."

"Why do you mention him now? I don't want to hear his name!" the elf said with suppressed temper. 

"......you allow your healers to bind me to a bed and drug me. DRUG me, Legolas!"

"It was for your own good, Irulan. You were ill and........"

"Then, on top of everything else, you PROPOSE me?!"

The elf pursed his lips in pain, feeling helpless to the core. "I love you," he whispered softly, not knowing what else to say. 

"Thank you! I almost forgot that part!"

He looked away as a silence settled between them. He should take charge. He should press on and convince her. But right when he needed all strength, he felt it flowing away from him and the weakness slowly claiming him. Fighting the rest of the world was easy. Fighting Irulan on such tentative terms was a real challenge. 

He was surprised when her hand was gently pressed against his cheek. Legolas looked up to lock eyes with her and she looked utterly sad. He placed his hand on hers, at a loss of words. 'Why?!' she thought with frustration. 'Why now?! Why not sooner……or never? Now when I am given the chance of a new life. The chance of being free…….why NOW?'

"Legolas, you need to wake up," she said softly. "Wake up, Prince of Ithilien."

The elf blinked as if he was really expecting to wake up from some nightmare. At this moment, it made more sense than her words. He ignored the slash he received on his soul when she used his title after all this time and took a small step to close the distance between them further. "Join me, then," he said slowly, his eyes the darkest shade of blue. "Join me in my dream, Irulan." He took yet another step as Irulan slowly moved back and looked away, not knowing what else to do. "Dream with me," he whispered, feeling more vulnerable than he had ever felt in his entire life. 

"I can not," she whimpered. 

"Then I shall join you."

Irulan smiled at that and turned with teary eyes to him again. "Not this time, Legolas." He halted, momentarily losing the ability to move in the face of such rejection. Irulan gazed into the distance and heaved with a deep sigh. "I have chosen another path. I must stay true to it," she said and once more cursed her fate. How tempting it was to turn from her freedom, to stay with Legolas. And yet, the thought of the past years came to her……an eternity of walls. Then the thought of her future flashed before her…….another eternity of walls. The past a dark hole in the basement; the future, long palace corridors where her footfalls echoed over and over again. To leave the dominance of her family for the shadow of the whole kingdom of Ithilien. Imprisonment filled with hate or with love – was there any difference? Irulan knew with absolute certainty that she would not…...no……simply COULD not face more years of such a life. She lacked the strength for it. 

She looked up into the baffled eyes of the elf and felt another wave of pain. Why couldn't he be someone like her instead of the Prince? Then she could damn the world and claim him, no matter what. But could she throw the whole of Ithilien into the fire for her own selfish wishes? Not even Irulan was capable of such an act of brutal selfishness. 

"You come with a kingdom tied to you, Legolas," she said finally, trying to convince herself as much as him. "I……I can not……."

"Yes you can!" he thundered and she jumped up at that. "What else is there to live for? What other worthy reason can you show me in this world?"

"I can NOT be queen!" Irulan yelled back finally. "You are out of your mind, Legolas!" She watched the words bouncing off his determinism, having no effect whatsoever. "And what would they say of you?" she added with a hiss, advancing him unconsciously. "A Prince who picks a SERVANT?"

"Do not talk so about yourself," he said with a low voice. 

"Somebody has to! For you obviously have forgotten, Legolas! Where is your infamous reason? Where is your logic that has ruled the kingdom for years? Where is the objective ruler of Ithilien? Do you think yourself so careless, Legolas?"

"I think myself so weak," he said softly and approached her further. "Let the strong rule the world. I have no place in such company. Nor do I desire it. I am captive to something far grander." And before she could move away, he was right before her and the touch of his palm against her cheek was like a shackle, binding her to him. "Let history speak my name so. I do not care. For what am I but a name in a story? An image of past, long lost times? If that is my destiny, why wait for it? Why not embrace it?" 

Irulan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. No matter what she did, she simply failed to break through his thick wall of determinism. Perhaps if it had been someone else -someone she valued less- she could act more ruthless. Or perhaps if she were not in a foreign place with no way to return home and nowhere else to go, she would be more self-confident. As it was, she found herself very effectively backed into a corner she could not escape from and, no doubt, Legolas held the higher hand. "If elf or man think that there is anything more valuable than love, their way is parted from mine," he added with an even softer voice, not ceasing his caress of her cheek. "I have seen only a glimpse of the truth, and my heart rings with its power. I can not turn away from it no longer. Please, let it be so."

Irulan heard none of it. She refused to open her eyes as, this time, true sickness spread its wings over her head, casting a dark shadow on her heart. 

"Legolas," she whispered. 

"Yes?" he said a moment later. 

"I think you better call the healers back."

A fear overcame him then. But also an inexplicable elevation and relief. She did not say no. She did not say yes either, but that mattered little. She did not say no.

"Nay," he heard himself saying, though he was positive that he was incapable of speech. "Allow me." And before Irulan could open her eyes, he leaned in to capture her lips. But it was more than her lips that he meant to have. He wanted her soul. He wanted her whole being. He wanted their spirits to merge and become one, so entwined that they would never be able to part again. He did not care if he would never be Legolas again. If he would become something unrecognizable and foreign. He did not care if he lost all and gained nothing. He leaned further in and delved deeper and deeper, forcing her to walk back to the bed and she fell back on it. The kiss broke and Irulan, bewildered and out of breath, tried to gain back her wits. 

But Legolas gave her no chance to breathe too much as he pressed down on her lips again, making her half-dizzy with the lack of air, pulling back slightly, then forcing his way back in again - like a slow, maddening dance, he kept her on the verge of consciousness, under the twilight between night and day. He gave her no chance to speak or to move. He almost gave her no chance to think. 

And then something terrible happened - she felt the passion waking up in her. She stood at the shore, feeling a peculiar wind coming up. Irulan turned around and looked at the blue ocean stretching into eternity. Something mighty was coming, she knew it. She knew it as her whole being resonated with the want of it. With the need of it. Something far grander than herself. Grander than Legolas. Far grander than the ocean, the sky and the shore. It was coming, her existence of no importance for it as it swept perhaps the universe in a single stroke of its wings. Something ancient. And of terrible beauty. She stood, knowing that she would cease to exist at the mere sight of it, and every particle in her body accepted that death with pure joy. 

Everything glowed then, and melted into something else. Suddenly there was nothing but different degrees of warmth and heat. Legolas was no more - he was a blanket of soft fire and the only cure for her soul that shivered in its own coldness. His identity disappeared. The bed was no more. The room was gone. They were in no palace. This was not Ithilien. Irulan shook with the intensity of her emotions and no longer able to hold on, let go. She glided her fingers into the man's soft hair, her sense of touch becoming painfully acute as the single strands brushed her palm while his warm lips left hers to move to her neck and further back, to her ear. Irulan gasped as he gently sucked on her earlobe, his breath killing her with its heat. 

Legolas was lost the moment she touched him. He was beyond himself and all thoughts of stopping simply vanished. He had had not intentions of going further than a passionate kiss, but now.........it was simply beyond his power. He felt himself burning with a strange fever and the thirst for Irulan became unbearable to say the least. 

"Irulan," he whispered, not knowing how he managed to do that, "I can not let you go. You have to forgive me, I can not." He raised himself and stood gazing down at her, as she gazed back at him, her fingers still entwined in his long hair. 

"You are mad, Legolas," she said, dazzled. Letting go of him, she raised herself on her elbows. "What will we do?" she whispered in unease. Legolas kissed her in response. 

"What does that mean?" she said a moment later, and it took all her willpower to form that sentence. 

"It means, let go," he whispered and kissed his way down her neck. "I shall take care of it all," he said against her skin, delving to the hollow of her throat. 

And that is exactly what she did. 

*********

Irulan woke up several times. Each time it took her several moments to realize that she was still in the castle and not at home. And each time the realization brought first fear, then the sense of relief. And then, with the feeling of Legolas' warmness against her, came something far stronger. 

Love. 

It was amazing how someone she knew only for such short time could become of such importance to her. Now she could not imagine a day without him. She should be feeling afraid. At least shocked. If not, then embarrassed. But strange enough, with Legolas she felt neither. She felt as if they had always been like this – sharing an intimacy that was simply natural and right. 

He never seemed to sleep. Every time she woke, he was already awake, playing with her hair, or caressing her arm, or speaking elvish into her ear. She asked him what he was saying and he said he was reciting old poems about love and salvation. The day moved on, though she was unaware of it. For her, time seemed to be frozen. For the first time since she could remember, Irulan was not up, working her way through the day, nobody caring if she was sick or tired or sad. 

Legolas had pulled the curtains and barred the door. Not that anyone would dare to interrupt the Prince! His personal guards would not let anyone in, since they obeyed his every order with unrelenting fierceness. It was the second day of the Ball, but he could not care less. Boromir, Aragorn and Eomer were no doubt going mad by now with anxiety and worry. He cared nothing for that, either. His days were getting happier and happier and today was the happiest of all. He simply could not stop touching her. Irulan fell asleep with his caress and woke up to it. And she failed to imagine every day to be like this. It was simply too good to be true. 

When she woke up the last time, she saw that the curtains were pulled back and the new night sky was visible. She blinked and stirred and felt Legolas behind her tightening his arm around her waist. "Do you feel rested, my love?" he said softly into her ear. 

"I do," she said and felt Legolas pulling her closer, until she was pressed against his chest. She tensed a little at his touch, despite herself and he felt it, hesitating in response to that. For hours now he had been battling the idea what to say to Irulan when she woke up. And he was still not any wiser. 

"I love you," he said finally and glided his hand over her arm. "No words would describe the gratitude and honor I feel for your gift of intimacy. I shall treasure it always." She did not answer and Legolas swallowed softly before he continued: "Perhaps……..perhaps you feel a little……..uncomfortable. And it was not my intention. But it feels so very natural to be so with you." Irulan still did not answer and the elf feared that she felt like he had rushed her. Or worse, forced himself upon her. "Would you disagree, Irulan?" he said with a cautious voice. 

Irulan breathed deeply. "No. It feels natural," she said finally. "Though I know that it is not."

Legolas, relieved that she spoke up, continued with haste: "Of course it is," he said gently. "Our spirits have bonded. Like this," he said and she watched his hand finding her own and his fingers entwining with hers.

A long moment passed as Legolas caressed her fingers with his, waiting for her reply. She finally turned to him and he reached out to place the hair from her shoulders. He smiled, gently squeezing her hand and Irulan smiled back, despite herself. At her smile, he felt a great relief and exhaled softly, his smile growing wider. 

"What happens now?" she said with a whisper.

"Now," he whispered back, giving her a kiss on the forehead and feeling joy at the fact that she did not withdraw from him, "I'm afraid I am yours forever. Do what you will with me." Feeling more bold, he leaned in to kiss her cheek. 

Irulan sighed. There it was happening again. Legolas was putting on the pink dust on everything once more and nothing seemed as terrible as it was supposed to be. 

"We have to get up, don't we?"

"We do not 'have to' to anything. And to be honest, I would rather remain here with you," he said and then leaned down to kiss her neckline. 

"But we should," Irulan said.

"Aye, we should," he whispered against her shoulder. 

"My family is probably going insane at the moment," she murmured a moment later. She shivered despite herself, thinking of the dark, beady eyes of Ingmar.

The elf pulled back and looked her in the eye, his fingers gliding through her hair and down her arms. "How did you live in that basement all these years?" he whispered in wonder. 

"Sometimes I wonder how I did that, myself," she said, with a dreamy voice. 

"I should punish them for doing this to you," he said, his fingers drawing circles on her arm. 

"I think the idea of me living in the castle is enough punishment for them," Irulan laughed softly, "not to mention........." She did not finish the sentence and Legolas, waiting for her to, looked up. 

"You shall be my wife, Irulan," he said slowly, moving up to lie face to face with her. "I will not have it any other way."

"Does that mean that I have no choice?" Irulan said in astonishment. 

"Of course you have a choice," Legolas said with haste, trying to sound as believable as he could. "It only means that I will not give up until you agree." 

Irulan massaged her face in desperation. The fact that she had slept with the Prince of Ithilien was shocking enough and definitely beyond the limits of her puny mind. But that Legolas meant to take her as wife.......now that was something she could think about for years and STILL not understand. "Legolas," she said slowly, "I have absolutely and definitely and most certainly not the slightest ability to rule. And I don't even mean to rule Ithilien. I mean ANYTHING. How on Middle Earth-" 

"Irulan," Legolas cut her off gently. "You have everything it takes to be a queen. And even if you did nothing and just remained by my side, it would serve to make me a better king. THAT is something no one else in Middle Earth can do." He sat up himself, tucking her hair behind her ears and thinking that she looked absolutely fabulous when she woke up, when she was in her most natural state. "Your presence alone makes such difference..........it is not a common talent."

Irulan took a deep breath and looked at the elf. His beauty was something that defied description. At that moment, she felt an elevation of her soul. There was no doubt that elves were beautiful. No doubt that they were the dearest work of the Valar. And yet that was only an understatement. Anyone who had seen an elf in such intimacy, without their glorious garments or their braided hair or in a setting that allowed them no advantage of dazzling their audience, would understand what Irulan saw then. She understood suddenly that the beauty of the Eldar was far an understatement. She understood that they were purity itself – the essence that made a being what it is. There was something immensely natural about them. Something that could only be described as perfect peace and harmony. 

She looked at the work of the Valar. The work of the gods. Without any conscious thought she placed her hand on his face, tracing his elegant and high cheekbones and his sharp jawline, down the tight muscles of his arm. "You are so beautiful," she whispered, in awe of her discovery. 

Legolas smiled and caught her hand, bringing it up for a kiss. "I have been told that many times. And it meant nothing. Now, coming from you..........." He moved closer to her and kissed her softly on the lips. "I was so incomplete. Half an image. A cracked painting. Or a flawed stitching. And I always thought it odd that none could see that, for it was as evident as a scar on the cheek, to me." His fingers glided through her hair again, loving the rougher texture of it. "And that is what amazed me about you so."

"What?" she said softly, feeling herself relaxing at his soothing touch. 

"Your completeness. Against all odds, you were as intact as anyone could be, Irulan. You still are. You need no one and nothing." He sighed, entwining his fingers with hers. "Though the world needs you."

"Sometimes I think you see what you want to see in me," she said, amazed. 

"In that case I am certain that it is only because my mind can conceive only so much magnificence," Legolas said. Irulan smiled and blushed against all odds. "Ah there it is again!" he added then, amused as always at her embarrassment. 

"What?" Irulan said, looking away and trying to cover her face with her hair. Though Legolas caught her hand and pinned it away, wrestling playfully to see her face. 

"That color. It is a most peculiar thing about humans, no doubt. You are definitely a goddess when you blush, Irulan," he laughed softly as the color quickly deepened.

"Stop it Legolas!" Irulan said, laughing despite herself and failing to hide her face from him as the elf was certainly too good a wrestler for her. 

"What must I do to see it more often, I wonder?" he said, feeling joyful and careless. 

Irulan, being pinned effectively underneath him, had no other choice but looking away, sighing with mock impatience. "Very funny, Legolas."

The elf smirked with delight. "So this is how it happens," he said as he watched her profile. "It starts right here," and he kissed her cheek, "moving up to here...." with that, he kissed her cheekbone, "and then spreads to.........wait........let me observe for a moment......" 

"Enough!" Irulan yelped and tried to get up, to no success. 

"And the hue of it is just unbelievable!" Legolas said, ignoring her completely. 

"You are impossible!" she said, still trying to fight. 

"And you are immaculate!" Legolas said without missing a beat and laughing as the color deepened yet again. 

"Oh grow up, Legolas! We have to go," she moaned. 

"Nay. Let us stay here. I like it far better."

"Don't be foolish! We need to go."

"I thought you did not like the Ball."

"I don't. But........but I loved the tour," she said, desperate to find a reason to rid herself from the current intimate position. "I was hoping for more."

"Of course!" he said with childish glee then, and sat up. Irulan rose on her elbows and watched a frown settling on his features.

"What is it?" she said.

He leaned over to place his palm on her forehead and she moaned with frustration. "I am thinking that you might get ill again if we over-exert you."

"Legolas, if you ever, and I mean EVER let those pack of wolves whom you call healers do those things to me again, I SWEAR I will never –NEVER- talk a single word to you again!" She looked up at him with the hardest expression to make her point. The elf regarded her in silence. "Promise that you won't." He sighed and looked away. 

"What if you-"

"No. Promise. NOW. You ask my trust and did I not give it to you? I only ask the same in return. I will let you know if I feel truly ill. But until I do, I don't want any healers coming closer than several feet, period."

He found her wrist and ran his fingers over it, feeling the marks there, even though they were too faded to be seen by any ordinary eye. "Very well. I promise." 

Irulan grinned with delight and placed a kiss on his cheek, throwing her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she whispered and Legolas embraced her slowly, the touch of her skin invading his mind. He glided his fingers down her spine, feeling the slight indentations on it and the peculiar sensation of human skin. He placed his hands up again and then began the journey anew. 

"What are you doing?" Irulan whispered into the embrace. 

"Touching you," the elf said a moment later.

Irulan sighed. "It feels..........good," she said, refraining from saying 'exciting'.

Legolas pulled away her hair and kissed the spot below her ear, knowing that it had an effect on her and indeed, Irulan gasped. He glided his fingers down her spine again, placing another kiss. "Let us stay. Perhaps they will not notice our absence."

Irulan shivered with another kiss and trying very very hard to make her brain work again, said "No. That is very……….unbecoming, Legolas."

He gently pushed her back on the bed and kissed his way down her neck. "Only if you will stay," he whispered and moved up to look her in the eye. "Otherwise I am forced to remain locked up in here." 

"Now listen," she began but got no further as the elf traced his lips along her ear. Irulan froze and closed her eyes. Legolas smiled to himself and traced his tongue along the route. "Arere you trying to seduce me into agreement?"

"Of course I am," he whispered and moved down her neck again. She swallowed softly. "It's not like I have too many options," she said then and sighed when his hand glided down to her waist and remained there like a warm spot of sunlight. Irulan used all her willpower to calm down those damn butterflies again. "Legolas!" she blurted in desperation and wriggled away, swiftly stepping on the floor, desperately trying to cover herself with the cream colored sheet. She almost cried out in shock when it was pulled away with one quick pull. "What are you doing?!" she said in utter embarrassment, sitting on the edge of the bed and not daring to turn around. She felt him behind her then, embracing her from behind. 

"What is it with humans and their obsession about covering their natural state of nakedness?" he said, pulling her hair from her face and laughing softly at the pink color there. 

"Legolas, if you don't let me get dressed, something truly terrible will happen!" she seethed.

"Such as?" he said in amusement, astonished by her degree of discomfort of her nudity.

She took a deep breath and turned to look at him. She did not blink as their faces stood mere inches apart. "I will walk out in this state and you can share the vision with your entire staff," she said with an unbelievably calm and cool voice.

The shock on his face was beyond her expectations. "You would not dare," he whispered a moment later, unable to find anything else to say.

"Why should I not?" she said with a sly smile. "After all, as you have just said, there is nothing to be ashamed about being naked, now, is there?"

The elf stood rooted for a moment. Then the idea hit him again and this time with such force, he felt dazed by the impact. She watched in amusement as he disappeared behind her. Barely moments later she felt the sheet being wrapped around her shoulders and she had to fight hard to bite down a grin. "Thank you," she said dryly and not wishing to torture him any longer, did not turn to look while she stood up. "Your gown is in the bathroom," he said softly and she nodded curtly, stepping away from the bed to walk into the adjoining room. 

A rather large bathroom stood before her in royal beauty. A small pool stood at one corner, designed with beautiful, navy-colored tiles with gold colored ornaments. It held water, the surface of which was covered with rose petals. She walked over and delved her hand into it and was instantly surprised by the warmness of the water. Though she had heard of architectural structures that maintained the warm water in pools and public baths and even took care of the circulation of the water, she had never thought that she would see such a thing with her own eyes. Especially in a private bath. The smell of roses reached up to her as she glided her fingers through the petals. 

She stood up and walked around the room, the sheet wrapped around her following her like the long skirt of a gown. She found her clothes cleaned and folded with care, resting on one of the elaborate armchairs in the room. She inspected the shelves and cupboards, holding scented liquids, soaps, towels or scrubs. It was only a bathroom, but it was the most magnificent place she had seen in her life. 

The bathroom was leading to another room, that looked very much like the one Legolas was using as his private room, but she did not walk in, unable to shake off the sense of unease that comes with being a visitor in a foreign place. Instead, she walked to the door she had entered and closed it. After spending a night (or rather, a morning) with him, it was perhaps indeed ridiculous to hide herself from Legolas so, but not only was that incident still too new and devastatingly embarrassing, it was also simply beyond her to be so careless and laid-back. Only when the door was closed and the elf did not open it in the following moments did she find the courage to shed the sheet and dive into the pool. 

*******

"She came after all?!"

"Yes she did. And –and take these news like men, meaning, do not faint on me or anything- the Prince means to marry her."

A sharp silence came over the trio. They blinked several times, forgetting to breathe in their shock. "Alright so I am not a man," Boromir whispered finally and sank down on the bench. 

"Perhaps I am not either," Eomer said and followed his example. 

Another silence followed as the two men tried to grasp the meaning of those words. 

"How can that.......I mean I thought they were just........"

"Oh they were far beyond friends, I can tell you  THAT," said Aragorn a little bitterly, cursing his foolishness for not waking up sooner. 

"Is it too late to resign? I mean too late to pick up a new profession, I wonder? I am certainly not of any use in this one," the blonde man said with a low voice. 

"Alright. We don't have time to think too long. Legolas might show up any moment. By the way.......how was last night for you two?" Aragorn could not help adding with a grin. 

They both looked up in dark unison. "Do not ask! I mean, literally – do not ask!" hissed Boromir. 

"I can only tell you that it has deepened my respect for Lady Irulan," said Eomer with a soft moan, massaging his face, "If she has survived those.......women........she is actually fit to be queen!"

"Do not even joke about it!" Boromir cut in at that. 

Aragorn took a deep breath and one last look around. "As a matter of fact......" he began, shifting on his feet and scratching his chin again, "I was thinking in similar terms."

Both men's heads snapped up at that. 

"Explain yourself, Chief Advisor," Boromir said very slowly, when the other man did not dare to continue for a moment. 

"I mean........alright. Number one, there is not much we can do to change the Prince's mind now, is there?" He looked from man to man. "Is there?" 

They pursed their lips and shook their heads. 

"Number two – such interventions or objections on our behalf will cause exactly what?"

"Things that will make us think that the Prince was overly gracious and kind to us at the moment and that we have ruined that with our own hands," murmured Eomer.

"Definitely! Number three – if we but SUPPORT him.........what will that gain us in return?"

"I would expect him to be very happy with us and-"

"Are you out of your minds?!" yelped Boromir despite himself. "Where is the step that concerns Irulan becoming the QUEEN of Ithilien, Aragorn?!" He sprang to his feet. "This can not be allowed!"

"Calm down, Boromir," the ranger said, crossing his arms on his chest. "It is already happening. Go back to number one, if you will."

"This is not a simple matter of the heart. She will RULE the kingdom. It is certainly our duty to see the best applicant available to take that position!"

"And what makes you think that she is incapable?"

"What makes me......Aragorn!"

"No, really," began the other man, turning his whole attention to him, now. "Is it because she is a servant? Because if it is, I have to remind you that my father was a nameless stableboy. Together with Eomer's uncle, that is, before the King took them both in. And that your line of family is adorned with nameless soldiers before the King invited your grandfather to become his advisor at the palace."

Boromir clenched his jaws and looked away. 

"It is the way of Ithilien," Aragorn added a moment later with a determined voice. "Her current state does not mean anything. We do not place judgment on such titles, you know that."

Boromir nodded and looked down at his boots. "I know. And I am proud of that. It is not because of her current......profession. It is HER." He threw up his hands in desperation. "I thought she was so far into that freedom thing of hers! Looks like she has changed her mind."

"Well," began Aragorn again, tentatively, "to be honest.........she might not have."

"Wait......are you saying that Lady Irulan will leave after the Ball?" Eomer broke in after a short silence. 

"I have a suspicion that she is planning to do that, yes," Aragorn said. 

"Impossible!" Boromir replied. "I mean........she is foolish, yes. But not foolish enough to refuse the crown. Or Prince Legolas, for that matter!" Aragorn gave him a long, hard stare. "Or is she?" Boromir said, baffled. 

"No she is not foolish. And I think she is.......very unique. I trust Legolas. He is not any man. If he has picked Irulan, then she must be worthy of such picking. I mean, do you doubt that he, even for a moment, forgets that he is Prince? Or that he is unaware what Irulan as his wife would become? What that would mean for Ithilien?"

He stared from man to man and back, until they both relented and softly shook their heads. 

"No. No matter what, I know that the Prince always thinks ahead of us and remains wiser in his choices," said Eomer softly. 

"I have to admit that I would never think him putting Ithilien in danger for anything," added Boromir, now thoughtful and even more confused. 

"Then we know that he must have made the right choice, do we not?" pressed on Aragorn, having finally backed them into the corner. 

After giving them a moment to think, he continued: "We have to unmake the deal."

Both men flinched at that. "Unmake the deal?" said the Second Captain. "But.......how? She came, did she not? And she is still here, from what you tell me." At that, a short silence set in, indicating that all three men were very aware of what that meant. Then he cleared his throat and added: "She is keeping her end in the bargain."

"I am aware of that!" Aragorn hissed. "But we just have to. If she rides off at the end of the Ball, and as the result of some terrible Fate Legolas discovers this to be our doing..........well I can tell you this – we won't have to worry about resigning EVER again."

******

"What is it?" Legolas said softly from the doorway. Irulan gulped and watched his reflection in the mirror as he slowly walked over to her with his white and cream colored outfit, with matching cream colored boots and once again his hair unbraided, the slender crown on his head. 'How can he look better with everything he does?' she thought silently and her gaze wandered to her own reflection. She noticed the beauty of the gown and the nice effect it had on her olive colored skin and dark hair. But other than that……..she saw nothing dashing or breath-taking. Not even anything that could be defined as beautiful. 

Legolas cupped her shoulders, looking her in the eye through the reflection. How ironic that at the very same moment he thought that she was the most astonishing thing he had ever seen in his entire life. "This gown is perfect for you," he said softly. "I dare not ask you to change it. But if you wish-"

"No," she said and inspected her fingers. 

"You seem troubled. Tell me what it is, Irulan."

"Nothing," she sighed in irritation. He remained silent. "It is just," she began then, "I don't know………everything is happening so fast! I…….I feel so torn. And confused. Afraid, too." She pursed her lips and waited for an answer. ANY answer. 

Legolas remained silent for a while to make sure that he chose the right words "I understand. And I am aware that I have been hasty with you. Forgive me, I did not mean to push you into discomfort."

Irulan did not look up. It felt so strange. She felt shocked and ashamed about last night. Though it was probably the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to her. But………she thought about how she had first met Legolas. And how they had talked in the forest. And visited the town. And rode on Arod. Or the time they had polished pots. It was such a short time ago. And she had never imagined those to lead to something like this morning. In a matter of hours their relationship had drastically changed from a blooming friendship to a love and passion that Irulan feared out of its sheer intensity. Alright, so she had had imagined how such an intimacy with Legolas would have been. Every woman with a brain would have! But that did not mean that she was shocked less when it truly happened.

However, that was not the real uncomfortable part. Irulan had been with a man before (though now that she had been with Legolas, she was certain that those were things she had to put in a completely different category, for the experiences were simply incomparable), and though she was not overly relaxed about such matters, she was also not an ignorant virgin. Having slept with the Prince was not –by itself- an extremely torturous thing. The terrible part was all the revelations that had come pouring all in a matter of hours. The thought that Legolas was in love with her was frying her poor brain by itself. But his proposal……..now THAT made her dizzy to say the least. 

She gulped and felt her face grow cold. "Are you ill again?" Legolas said in alarm then, noticing the lack of color and Irulan blinked. 

"No! Heavens, Legolas! People do not get ill that easily."

The elf watched her with a dubious look and barely kept himself from checking on her temperature. He knew that his deductions would mean nothing, because he did not know how much warmness under which circumstances meant danger, but having watched the healers doing it so many times, he felt compelled to place his palm against the forehead, simply for the sake of the act itself. 

"Irulan," he said carefully. "This pace of events is, no doubt, dangerous for you. Let us try a slower one. We have all the time in the world. I will try to keep myself at bay." 

She nodded deftly. "I think that is a good idea," she said slowly, feeling oddly also regret saying it. And that was the second façade to the story: as much as she felt uncomfortable and shocked at their intimacy, she also felt it to be incredibly natural. As if it had always been like this – from the first day they had met. As if they had always woken up in the same bed, dressed and shared similar moments in front of the mirror. 'What the heck is going on?!' she thought in desperation. 'How can I feel so at ease with someone one moment and the next, feel as if I have never touched him before?'

Legolas remained rooted for a moment. "Can I touch you?" he said suddenly, before he could stop himself, and it sounded ridiculous with that anxious tone of voice. 'So much for being patient,' he thought in dismay. Fortunately Irulan only blinked in surprise and smiled. "Certainly," she said with soft laughter. "Or do you mean to abandon me so soon?" she added, bemused at his loss of wits on the matter.  

His eyes widened at that. "Of course not!" he said, failing to understand the humor in her statement. "Why would you say such things?!" He embraced her with fierce desperation and Irulan laughed despite herself, embracing him back. 

"I am sorry," she said softly, "it was a joke."

The elf gently stroked her hair for many minutes, knowing that their time of intimacy was nearing an end, now that they would step into the crowd again. He leaned back and looked down at her, hesitating only a moment before he decided to go further. He kissed her softly on the lips, knowing that it was a breach of the words he had spoken just a few minutes ago, but unable to do otherwise, anyway. 

They walked out of the room hand in hand, Irulan –to her very dismay- blushing yet again and feeling unable to look at the guards waiting at the door, though they seemed very disinterested in her or in anything else. Legolas saw her state and smiled slyly until Irulan buried her elbow to his side and threatened him. He tried to put up a serious and solemn mask then, and only succeeded in doing so when he managed to look away from her. 

It was the early hours of the evening and though the castle provided lodging for those who wished to remain, many were busy getting dressed and prepared and the corridors were either empty or the arena of servants who were rushing around in a frenzy. Legolas was like a walking calamity. Everyone who spotted him pressed him or herself against the walls to allow a more comfortable passage and bowed fervently, sometimes to the extent of dropping whatever they had in their arms and causing a small havoc. Contrary to the reactions he was causing, the elf himself was a perfect example of calmness and tranquility, strolling with Irulan in his arm at a lazy pace, not really seeing his surroundings. Unlike yesterday, today he was not interested in the slightest in the things that concerned the Ball.

Irulan tried to establish her sense of direction, but the castle was simply too big and complicated to do so with merely spending a day in it. The elf patiently explained the halls and rooms and the architecture of the place, but in the end both laughed at the realization that it was simply beyond Irulan to learn it in such a short time. Right at that moment, her stomach decided to engage in a symphony. 

The elf laughed softly at that. She rolled her eyes, thinking that humans were such coarse and downright horrible creatures compared to the Eldar, but Legolas defended the opposite. She was amazed how fascinated he was by such simple and actually far from nice things concerning her kind. 

"Just in time, Irulan!" he said then. 

"Just in time for what, Legolas?"

"For dinner, of course," he said and pulled her along. 

"What dinner?" Irulan said with a nervous tinge. 

"Just a dinner, Irulan," he said to that and just the way he said it, Irulan knew that she would not like this. 

"Who else is coming?"

"Representatives," said Legolas with disinterest. 

"Representatives of what?"

But luckily by that time he had already dragged her to the Grand Hall where all representatives, lords, princes, kings queens, princesses and captains of all the kingdoms in Middle Earth were slowly gathering for the official dinner that was to be held on the second night of the Ball.

**********


	23. Day Two, Let The Games Begin

Thank you, thank you, thank you! 

You are all amazing. Far more than me, for sure. Thank God that none of you thought the last chapter too fluffy and slow and uselessly romantic. It is the genre, after all. Do not worry – I am nowhere near finished with the romance. But the plot need thickening as well, don't you think? 

Just one look at the Hall and the people in it made Irulan's worst nightmares come true and she remained frozen, planting her feet to the ground. Legolas gently walked back to her then and encircling her waist, tried to push her further, but Irulan only gulped and resisted with such force that he gave up on that, too. 

"Legolas!" she hissed with disbelief. "Sweet Heavens!"

Legolas bit his tongue not to ask if she felt ill again. She had said that she would tell him. So he should not ask. Instead, he gently pulled her a little stronger and this time she had to comply. "It is only dinner, Irulan. It is not a test of valiance. Which test, by the way, you would pass easily enough anyway."

"I........I can not do it," she said with a low voice. "I can not! I simply can NOT!" With that she turned around to walk back. Legolas caught up with her and turned her around again. 

"Yes you can. I am with you. There is nothing to it."

"I can not!" She tried to fight him without being too obvious in it, but the elf was far stronger and gently pushed her along. 

"Of course you can. Here, hold my hand," he said softly and entwined his fingers with hers, and Irulan was too excited and distracted at the moment to notice. Otherwise, no doubt, she would have snatched hers back. 

The guests who noticed the Prince immediately stood up. Others, following their gaze and example, quickly did the same. Before long, the room was on feet, observing the couple walking towards the middle of the hall in which several long tables stood. Irulan quickly stilled her struggle and let the elf pull her away. She kept her eyes on her feet, feeling herself getting more horrified by the moment. 

Legolas had his blank face on, as he always did in such official matters and Irulan felt the fear and respect he was causing around him. It was to a degree that no one dared to glance at even her in any strange or inappropriate way. They bowed and curtsied as the couple passed, their faces laced in slight curiosity but other than that, a similar blankness to the Prince. 

After what seemed like ages, the elf arrived at his chair and Irulan remained waiting on her feet, not knowing where to go from here. She glanced up to see a pair of servants waiting for them, each having drawn one of the two elaborate chairs which stood aligned and which were different from the rest of the seats in the Hall. "We have prepared a chair for your guest, Lady Irulan, Sire. I hope it is fitting," one of the servants said, bowing slightly to Legolas. The elf regarded the two identical chairs and smiled in satisfaction. Under normal circumstances his chair should have been slightly more elaborate or dashing in sight - him, being the Prince. But the servants had chosen two chairs that looked exactly the same, thinking that it would please the Prince, denoting the importance of his guest. Someone like Irulan would not know, but every person in royal circles (meaning, everyone present in the Grand Hall at the moment) knew instantly what an unusual compliment and praise that was for Irulan. The Prince was showing everyone in symbolic and official terms that he valued her enough to sit with her in the same standard - a standard even the queen herself would not cherish, in other kingdoms. "It is very fitting indeed. "Thank you," he said. "I am proud of my staff, Irulan," he said then to her. "The best men and women of Ithilien work with me. With such excellent people, my failure would be unacceptable."

The servants, bloating with pride, bowed several times to him, then to her. As always, they had heard everything there was to hear in a matter of hours as the servants at the gate and the ones in the garden and the ones in the corridors, and the ones in the House of the Healers had exchanged word and by now almost everyone knew about the Prince's very curious and very special guest. Legolas motioned for her to sit, then. Irulan motioned for him to sit first. Legolas smiled with amusement. "I could possibly not sit before a lady does. Please, Irulan." He pursed his lips at her pinkish cheeks and waited. Along with the rest of the room. She gulped audibly and looked at him with pleading eyes. The Prince raised his eyebrows in all innocence and waited in utter patience. Along with the rest of the room. She blushed a darker red and finally sank on the chair, and a moment later Legolas joined her, and the room followed their example. 

She entwined her hands on her lap and fixed her eyes on the plate in front of her, not daring to glance anywhere else. A few moments later she felt Legolas' hand over hers and she turned to look at him, smiling down at her. "Are you alright?" he said softly. She gave him an extremely sour look, then nodded, swallowing hard. Legolas smiled and sat up to look ahead again, but his hand remained on hers, caressing it. 

"I am pleased to see you again, Lady Irulan," someone whispered from beside her, then. She turned to see Eomer sitting beside her. At his sight, Irulan felt immense relief. Though he had been there when they had made the deal and that had certainly not been a nice day, she still felt closer to him than anyone else. After all, he had always been nothing but kind to her. 

She glanced at Legolas, who was busy listening to a servant whispering to his ear. "As am I," she whispered back swiftly, turning to Eomer again. 

"I........saw your sisters yesterday," he said softly, "and I was worried that you were unable to make it."

Irulan nodded at that. "I almost didn't," she whispered back. 

The Second Captain grinned with amusement then. "I heard about you long before I saw you in person. You are very popular at the palace now."

Irulan almost rolled her eyes at that. "I am so..........embarrassed!" she finished with frustration. "I do not fit in, Captain Eomer!"

"Of course you do," the man said then. "Far more than most in this room." The woman looked up in amazement and Eomer nodded in confirmation.

"Lady Irulan! How wonderful to see you again!" Irulan looked across the table to lock eyes with Lord Haldir. She found the courage to look around her then and realized that she knew most of these people. Arwen was sitting next to Haldir, and next to her, a man that resembled her and whom Irulan guessed to be her father, Lord Elrond of the Rivendell elves. Aragorn sat on Haldir's other side, smiling at her and he bowed his head slightly. She smiled back, feeling still a little strange at his friendly attitude but no doubt enjoying it. The dwarf she had spotted yesterday and believed to be the infamous Lord of the Glittering Caves, Gimli, sat next to him. And a very perplexed Boromir was on Gimli's side. She knew of course that these were some of the most powerful people in Middle Earth and therefore sat closer to the Prince.

"I am glad to see you too," she said then. "All of you," she added, looking at the familiar faces. Everyone, surprised by that kindness, smiled and nodded in reply. 

"You have come early," Arwen said, her gaze sweeping over Irulan's dress, to indicate that she noticed it was the same one. Irulan pursed her lips and looked down, trying to think of something different so that she would not blush. 

"She stayed in the palace last night as my guest," Legolas said suddenly. 

"I see," Arwen said then, her face falling visibly at the Prince's obvious protection of Irulan. 

And so the formal dinner began. Irulan felt every eye on her, though she saw no one looking. 'It must be the subtle ways of the high circles,' she thought. She tried to be as 'civilized' as she could be and both Eomer and Legolas showed immense help simply by sensing what she felt uncomfortable about and taking care of it. If she showed reluctance in eating a certain fruit, one of them would pick one and begin to peel it or knack it, pretending to do so for themselves, so that Irulan could observe but not feel belittled. If she did not know how to hold a certain cutlery, one of them would demonstrate, again, in a similar fashion. If she was asked something that she had no knowledge in, either man would gently intervene and explain her what she was being asked, and they would do it with such skill, that it seemed perfectly normal and understandable for her not to know it in the first place.

Legolas never left her unattended. He would either hold her hand, or touch her leg with his or talk to her, to keep her mind off the tenseness. Nevertheless, it was the first time Irulan met the infamous Prince of Ithilien in person. Legolas, in an official environment, was a very different man from the Legolas who had met Irulan in the forest, or polished pots with her, or wrestled her to see her blush. She sat next to him, feeling overly amazed by his presence alone. The elf was a perfect statue of calm serenity, of cool diplomacy and on top of that, of an intimidating authority. Legolas, who had been spoiling her to an utmost degree, who had been overly gentle and tender to her, was so different in public, that she could not blame those who felt curious about the woman whom this ruthless looking Prince had chosen. 

"We did not get the chance to meet before, Lady Irulan," rumbled the dwarf some time after the remnants of dinner were cleaned and replaced with sweets and a strong, spicy tea. 

"Yes. I believe you are Master Gimli?" she said, barely keeping her voice from shaking at the excitement of being listened to by the highest royal circle in Middle Earth. 

"I am indeed!"

"I have heard of your infamous book," she said with a smile and watched his eyes widen with fascination. 

"You have?!" Irulan nodded as the dwarf shifted on his chair, excited beyond words. 

"What a pity," mumbled Haldir to that and she diverted her gaze to him, raising her eyebrows. He just smirked the royal way and Irulan laughed softly. 

"Lady Irulan, as you can see, jealousy and envy is very abundant around here. But I heed it not. I rather take it as a compliment."

"If we are to talk any further about love, let me know ahead so that I can protect the remnants of my wine," said Haldir with a calm voice. "Master Gimli has this habit if pounding his fist on the table," he added at her curious looks. 

"Ah....." said the dwarf to that in a dreamy voice, "we could talk about that for hours and days. And we would still be as far from understanding it as we are now. It is the ultimate thing. Would you not agree, Lady Irulan?" he added with a sly grin. 

"It is indeed," she said, slightly shifting on her chair as Legolas looked down at her with a beautiful smile.

"What would be the first word that comes to your mind when love is mentioned, Prince Legolas?" Gimli said suddenly. 

Legolas diverted his gaze from Irulan to him and almost said 'Irulan'. But he judged it to be too bold a thing to do at the moment. Not to mention that it would make her extremely uncomfortable. "Completeness" he said after a moment. 

"Lady Arwen?"

"Longing," the Rivendell elf said, her gaze fixed on the tablecloth, her slender fingers playing with the tea cup. 

"And you, Lord Haldir?"

"Pleasure, no doubt," the handsome elf said and raised his wine goblet slightly. 

"I would say Patience," was Aragorn's reply. 

"Courage," came Eomer's voice from her left. 

"Fascination?" the First Captain added, grinning openly at Gimli. "And what of you, Lord Gimli?"

"Skill," the dwarf barked. 

"I must say.........Strength," was Lord Elrond's reply. 

Irulan listened with rapt attention, amazed at the sheer fact that she was sitting here with these people. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined things to turn out like this. She was so dazed by her observations that when Gimli said her name, the word just dropped out of her mouth. 

"Legolas," she heard herself saying and only realized that she DID indeed say it when she instantly noticed the shocked expression on the face of the audience. 

Irulan blinked and woke up, wishing with all her heart and soul that she had been dreaming. That she did NOT just say his name. Or that, in case she did, the ground would open this instant and she would fall and vanish in the fires of Hell. 

Needless to say that neither wish was fulfilled. 

"I mean........I meant........" she stammered, blushing against her best wishes as the table remained silent. 

She ignored the shocked gaze of the elf beside her, staring with such intensity that the hair on her neck stood up. She swallowed and looked down on her plate. "I mean, Sacrifice," she finished with a low voice, pursing her lips and cursing her stupidity. 

The silence continued as Legolas finally managed to still his heart to a less lethal pace and reached out underneath the table to hold her hand again. Irulan did not look up at that and her face betrayed her anxiety. He could only hope that his did not betray his joy. And shock. And relief. And admiration. And pleasure. And countless other lightning bolts of emotions surging through him.

"I liked the first pick better," guwaffed the dwarf and pounced his fist on the table, which was followed by a slight murmur of "Here we go again"s and attempts to still the cutlery. Gimli laughed a little, but slowed down and finally closed his mouth at the persisting disapproval of his reaction. 

"I have to say, this........coloration of your cheeks.........Lady Irulan, is most attractive," Lord Elrond said with a cool voice, his eyes narrowed for better observation. 

Irulan took a deep breath at that, almost moaning in frustration. Since this kind of talk only made her blush further. 

"Oh definitely! It is a human characteristic that I find downright miraculous!" Haldir said with enthusiasm. 

Legolas, who was still dazed with the recent statement, blinked and tried to divert his thoughts to the present. It proved to be extremely difficult. 

"I mean, it can not be blood flow, can it? In that case, your face should be swelling as well. It is such a pleasure to observe!" Elrond continued, staring at Irulan with fixation. 

"It is also my observation that human women blush in different ways and to different degrees," continued the Lothlorien elf, his gaze taking in the deepening hue on the woman's face as well. 

"Very much so!" exclaimed Elrond. "For instance, some get really deeply red. And all over. That seems very interesting, but not as attractive as others, who only reveal a pinkish hue on the right spots."

"Just like Lady Irulan here," mused Haldir and Legolas, who by this time had managed to put his brain into function again, gave him a cold stare. The other elf smiled back in amusement. 

Irulan just smiled and not making eye contact with anyone, simply said "Thank you. Though it is certainly not an accomplishment on my behalf. It is.......purely a reflex."

"Ah but we elves love it, whatever it is!" Haldir exclaimed to that. "And we love the fragile reaction of embarrassment that humans show under very natural circumstances. Would you not agree, Prince Legolas?"

"I most certainly would," the Prince said with a tense voice. He hated the fact that Haldir had discovered his weakness for Irulan and was now more than determined to explore the depth and width of it. 

Gimli, who had been watching the interaction with utmost concentration, broke in to cool down the situation. 

"In any case.........the Ball is splendid indeed! Would all not agree with me?" 

His attempts to change the subject proved inefficient as Haldir continued with a cool voice: "I find Lady Irulan most attractive in many ways. I only regret that I have not made her acquaintance sooner. Prince Legolas must have been hiding her from us!"

The Prince's eyes widened at his boldness and he prayed to the Powers above that he would not lose his patience before too late. His left hand remained above Irulan's, gently squeezing hers while his right hand picked up the fork and cut into the sweet perhaps a little too harshly. 

"Thank you very much," Irulan said when she realized that Legolas would not respond. It seemed rude to leave the statement hanging so. "But.......this much praise is certainly over-done for me. And I know that in the company of the Eldar, my looks are not worth talking about."

"Oh no," Haldir said, happy with the proceeding of things, "that is a mistake, Lady Irulan. We elves have a very different view of beauty. Your standards do not match ours."

Irulan just laughed at that. "I am certain that Lady Arwen here, for instance, is beyond beautiful in the standards of EVERY race and culture in Middle Earth."

Arwen's head snapped up at that and she gave Irulan a curious look while the other just smiled back and once more admired the elven grace of the other. 

"Perhaps Lord Haldir is right," she said then, not looking away from Irulan. "All I can say is that looks certainly are not sufficient to capture a heart." It came out somewhat bitter and the other involuntarily frowned in confusion. Then Arwen cast a glance at Legolas and Irulan remembered that she had observed those looks before and that something was going on between the two. 

The Prince only tensed very slightly and after a silence, said "You are right in that, Lady Arwen. A love based on such shallow things would not be true anyway."

"Shallow things?" replied Arwen in disbelief. 

Legolas nodded with a cold look. "Outer beauty is a shallow and passing thing."

"And how, Prince Legolas," she said then, her voice gaining a slight edge, "would you judge inner beauty without coming close enough to inspect it?"

Irulan looked from one to the other, as did the rest of the table. But both elves were too involved in their personal duel. 

"I trust my heart to do that for me. And Fate."

"I suppose your heart is truly wise, then," the Rivendell elf whispered between clenched teeth and fixed her gaze on the tablecloth again. 

"Eh well," said Gimli, desperate to break the tension now, "let us not-"

"What would your recommendation to a woman be, Master Gimli?" Arwen cut him off. 

"Er......a woman?" Gimli said in astonishment. 

"Yes. You write for men. And of women only as trophies. Have you nothing to say for us?" Arwen asked bitterly. "We can fall in love too, you know."

"Princess Arwen, certainly you are no trophies. I was only hinting at the resemblance between-"

"Not trophies, but fortresses to be taken over, yes!" Arwen intervened with impatience, waving her hand. 

"Well now........"

"Shall we women sit aside and wait for the next valiant knight to conquer us, then?"

Gimli took a deep breath and glanced at Legolas, who was looking back at him with slight alarm. His gaze went to Irulan, who was looking back in confusion and curiosity. When their eyes met, she said "I have to say, Master Gimli, it sounds a little….....unjust. I mean I for one would not like to be considered as some.........fortress."

Legolas swallowed softly at that while the dwarf played with the cutlery in front of him and Arwen smiled in satisfaction. "Exactly my point, Lady Irulan," she said softly. "Alas, these men are determined to battle their way through life. What is your thought about the matter, Prince Legolas?"

The elf remained silent for long moments. "I believe in fighting for what is worthy. Whether it be justice, protection of life.........or love," he said and it was followed with a sigh of relief. Gimli gave him an approving look. 

"Fighting in what sense?" said Arwen in amusement. 

"In every sense," Legolas said with an edgy voice that dared her to continue in that direction. 

"And I suppose you would insist in your fight till the woman gives in?" Legolas just stared back in silence at the elf as Irulan looked up at him. "So she has no choice in the matter, has she? It is only a matter of time. You intend to break her defense sooner or later," the Rivendell elf continued.

"No," he said, his gaze fixed on Arwen. "It is a matter of time to clear away prejudices and judgment and earlier bad experiences. After that, love would come naturally."

"Not to mention - clear away all other suitors," Arwen mused and the Prince looked up at her with fire in his gaze.

"So you see........Lady Irulan.........you and I, we are merely targets in a fierce battle fought between men. We have no say in things. I for one have no desire for such a role."

Irulan was silent for a long time. As was anyone else on the table. "I think," she said a long time later, as the tenseness at the table grew stronger and stronger, "if I were a fortress.......I would certainly welcome a visitor far more…....than..........a conqueror," just for the sake of saying something. Legolas blanched at that. As did Master Gimli, who once again silently cursed himself for delving into a duel of words with a woman, while he should know by know that women were simply too cunning to lose. The rest just blinked and stared at her.

Irulan, realizing that she had said something that had only served to make the situation worse, though she had no idea why that was, swallowed softly. "Would you not agree?" she said with the desperation to divert the center of attention at the table. "What do you say?" she said finally and looked up at Legolas with pleading eyes. 

The elf turned to look back at her, caressing her hand with his fingers. "I say that your wisdom is unparalleled, Irulan," he said gently and everyone who had still doubts about the degree of their relationship, let go instantly of those doubts as the Prince spoke to her on a first-name basis and in such a tone of voice. 

Irulan only smiled and entwined her fingers on her lap, feeling utterly exposed. After that the Prince stood up, glancing one last time at Arwen and Haldir, and held out his hand to Irulan. She accepted, perplexed but also glad that it was behind her. The table stood up as a sign of gratitude and some left as well while others sat back to continue. Legolas put her hand in the crook of his arm, leading her out. 

"You were magnificent, Irulan," he said softly when they walked out of the Grand Hall, as he still felt that strange tingling of his skin at her very recent statement of returned love. 

"Legolas! I can not believe you did that to me!" she said then. "What if something went wrong? What if I made a fool of myself? As a matter of fact, I have! Every representative in Middle Earth saw it happening, too!"

"Nonsense. You were great. You need to have more confidence in yourself, Irulan."

She shook her head in frustration. "I know my place, Legolas."

"No, you do not!" he said and her head snapped around at his tone. "You know only what you have been told! You know the lies and standards of society and the people around you!" She watched the elf's suppressed fury in astonishment as he continued: "You talk about freedom, Irulan. But you carry these......chains......in your mind and you refuse to let go of them. How can you think that you can be free when you must take your prejudiced mind with you anywhere you choose to go!?"

She bit her lower lip and looked away then, feeling very small and stupid. As always, Legolas was right. No wonder that he was the Prince while she was no one. Since he had immense wisdom, talent and intellect cut for the job. And she had none of those. She pursed her lips then, realizing that she had been drifting exactly into the frame of mind he had so rightfully criticized a moment ago. 

"I am sorry," he said suddenly and Irulan realized that they had stopped and that he was looking down at her with anxiety. "It seems I make myself a fool at any given chance," he said when their eyes met. 

"What are you talking about?" she said in confusion. 

"About my unnecessary comments. I got carried away. Forgive me."

"No," she said hastily. "You were right. I was just thinking about that."

"Nay, Irulan," he said then and cupped her cheek. "Whatever my argument, I was wrong in my treatment of you. It was unacceptable. Do not let ANYONE speak to you in that manner."

"But........but you said nothing," she said in confusion. 

"I was rude. It will not happen again," he said then. 

"I must have missed that part, Legolas," Irulan said, still not any wiser. She shrugged to make her point and looked up in all innocence. 

Legolas suddenly leaned in and gave her a short, but immensely passionate kiss. She hastily broke it, alarmed at their exposure in the middle of a corridor with people passing by. The elf, though, looked completely careless. "I love you," he said, not even once glancing around him to see if anyone else was there or if they were the only living, breathing beings left in Middle Earth. 

And it was true. He loved her for her down to earth attitude. For her modesty. For her honesty. Any other woman would have put up a devastating act of caprice at such words and most certainly at the Prince's apology. Not Irulan. It never did and never would occur to Irulan to torture him in any manner about it. Or to pretend to be overly heartbroken and desperate. 

Irulan smiled up and shook her head in frustration. And then, as if it were the most natural thing to say, she said "I love you too, Legolas."

It was hard to tell which of them was surprised more by it. Irulan swallowed hard, feeling immensely excited for no reason at all. She tried to say something else, but failed, not knowing what it is she should be saying. Not until she had uttered the words audibly, did she know that they were true. But now, that she had said them by pure accident, she knew that they were as true and real as natural laws themselves. 

"What did you say?" Legolas whispered a long time later, when he finally managed to speak again. His heart was beating so brutally, it was downright painful. The incredible pleasure and pain combination that had swept him off so at the dinner table returned to him at once. And although he had not dared to ask her about it, in fear of frightening Irulan or making her uncomfortable, she had just given him the opportunity to delve deeper.

"I said," Irulan began slowly and then laughed softly as she remembered the day they had sat under the tree in the forest and a very similar conversation had passed between them. "I said, I love you, Legolas," she managed a moment later as he stood as still as a piece of rock. "Anyone in her right mind would," she added, laughing again.

He opened his mouth, but Irulan cut in: "Don't bother to ask - I'll say it again: I love you. There. I do. I love you." Irulan laughed softly, now completely engulfed in the lightness as some terrible weight lifted off her. Who said that such statements would bring more ties and responsibility? On the contrary – she felt immensely careless and free just for saying it. As if the words themselves had been solid barriers between them. 

Against all her protests, Legolas kissed her again, his hands holding her head and not giving her the chance to escape. "I love you," he whispered, leaning his forehead on hers and looking into her eyes. "First you found me. Now you saved me."

Irulan, still trying to pry herself off without making it too obvious, said "The amazing things I accomplish by doing.........nothing!" The elf laughed softly and kissed her again. 

"I thought we had switched to a slower pace," Irulan managed then, feeling more and more exposed, while Legolas seemed to have lost all sentiment of shame. 

"We have. And I am keeping myself VERY MUCH at bay, Irulan." She swallowed at his husky tone of voice. "Otherwise," he whispered, his fingers gliding with an agonizing slowness down her neck, towards her shoulder, "I would lift you up........and.......take you...........to-"

"Legolas!" she hissed despite herself and the elf chuckled as the natural joy and carelessness that had conquered him for the last few days took hold of his mind and body again. 

"Ah but I might not be able to resist, after all. Not with that color!"

"Legolas, I think your shamelessness has caused permanent damage to my cheeks!"

"As your beauty did to my heart."

"Oh I simply can't compete with you!" Irulan protested and finally managed to take a small step back as the elf released her. "You are too much!"

"Does that mean that you give in to me completely?" he said, his eyes twinkling with pleasure as he held her hand and resumed their slow stroll down the corridor. 

"Not at all," was her cool reply as she tried to gain her color back while servants  passed by them, not so much as glancing at the couple. And that alone denoted that they were paying utmost attention. With that thought, she felt the redness returning to her face. "Oh for the love of Uroth!" she hissed to herself. 

"Marry me. Now," Legolas said suddenly and Irulan almost moaned in frustration. She took a deep breath and turned to the elf, who was gazing down at her with impossibly blue eyes. 

"The elvish way, the human way; the Ithilien way, the Shire way - I do not care. Every minute is wasted time to me."

"So this is the slow pace you were offering, Legolas?" she said with irritation, taking her hand back and crossing her arms on her chest. 

"Marry me and we can go back to any pace you wish."

"Right," Irulan said and turned to walk down the corridor. 

"I love you," the elf said from beside her, encircling her waist, "you......you love me." He suppressed a shiver of joy at that thought and continued: "There is no reason why we should not-"   
  


"Other than the fact that it would make me the Queen of Ithilien, you mean," Irulan cut in curtly. 

"It is not such a big difference, Irulan."

Irulan stopped at that and turned to look at him with obvious disbelief and shock in her eyes. 

"Alright. It is a difference," he said after a moment of silence. "But nothing that you can not overcome. I will be with you, you will not be alone for a single moment, I promise." Irulan rolled her eyes and began to walk again, Legolas keeping pace with her. It was a strange thing for the Prince of Ithilien to run after a woman and try to persuade her. And it was a strange thing for a woman to be followed by the Prince of Ithilien in an attempt of persuasion. But they had grown used to the way of things, for neither Irulan nor Legolas thought it strange at that moment. 

"No one will force you to be a certain way, Irulan," he tried again. "You can be exactly as you are. As a matter of fact, I would not have it any other way. You can remain who you are and set the standards yourself. No one can tell you what to do when you are queen."

"Not even you?" Irulan said with raised eyebrows.

"I would not do such a thing, you know that," he replied gently. 

"Oh yes, true. You would rather PERSUADE me to do otherwise!" Legolas swallowed softly. Irulan could be so unrelenting. And to his surprise, that woke only more admiration in him. Not to mention the pleasure of the chase. "Legolas," she said then, with a calmer voice, "you do not understand, because you have never been anything else but the Prince. You were born into it. It is not an easy thing to suddenly become someone of such importance and someone who has so many responsibilities. You had a lifetime to prepare you for it. How can you expect me to jump into that title in a matter of minutes?"

The Prince thought about that for a moment and saw the truth in it. Though he also knew that millions of others would not give it even a second thought if they were offered the throne like that. "You are right. Even though I can never understand completely, I see your reasoning. And that just proves my point!"

"Your point?"

"That you are cut to be queen, Irulan! No one else would take it so seriously!"

Irulan moaned and having arrived at the end of the corridor, attempted to step into one of the gardens, but Legolas held her arm and gently guided her into another corridor that led away from it. "In any case," he said then, "there is no other way. I admit that it will be harder for you than any other born to that title, but since you can not change your past, you will have to step into it this way."

"Or not become queen at all," she said. 

The man's head snapped around at that. He regarded Irulan for a long time. Legolas knew in his heart that he could not leave the throne of Ithilien. Not for anything. Not even for Irulan. He was well aware that Ithilien needed him. That his responsibility demanded him to comply his destiny. That he could, in his right mind, not leave millions to their bloody fate. He knew all this. But then........Irulan did not. 

"Perhaps you are right," he said then, with a very calm voice. "Perhaps a change is required not only from you, but from me, too." With that, he clasped his hands behind his back and put on his blank expression. 

"Change? You? What are you talking about?" Irulan said in confusion. 

Legolas shrugged deftly. "Now that I think about it, I can not deny that your words are wise. After meeting you, being a Prince has proven to be a little........burdensome........to me."

Irulan just stared at him. After a long silence the elf turned to look down at her. "I don't understand," the woman said then, very slowly. 

He took a deep breath and looked away. "I am tired of all this responsibility resting on my shoulders. And I know with certainty that I can not continue lifting the heavy weight of it when I am to be without you."

He decided to stay silent again, knowing the torture it would cause for Irulan. True to his guess, she said "So?" after a short silence. 

"So..........if you will not come to me –and I understand and respect your decision with all my heart, Irulan- it is only natural that I go to you."

She stopped at that, and Legolas, after walking a few steps, did the same. He turned to see her, a serious frown on her face, her hands unconsciously clenched into fists. "What, in the name of the Valar, are you TALKING ABOUT?!" she said with a very low and dangerous voice. 

Legolas felt a slight discomfort at playing with her like that. But Dernhelm seemed to be right – Irulan knew not what was good for her. She needed a little........guidance, that's all. He smiled softly. "I am saying that perhaps it is time for Ithilien to change. Time to see if a council can do what a king can."

Her eyes widened at that and she walked up to him with long strides. "Are you out of your mind?!" she hissed. 

"Perhaps I am," he said slowly. "It is my choice and my call. And I am not afraid to make it." 

Irulan ignored the fact that she herself was too afraid to make it. "Will you leave Ithilien to its fate?"

"No. I will leave it to the hands of others."

"You know that they can not do what you do!"

"I am willing to give it a try," he said with a cool voice. 

"Legolas," she hissed, "if you think that you can push me to the throne by such foolishness......"

"Nay, Irulan. It is not my wish to push you into anything," he said, waving his hand dismissively and thanking for his diplomatic training that allowed him to be so believable at the moment. "This has nothing to do with you. It is not your burden to carry. It will be my choice and therefore will lie only on my conscience. Do not worry yourself, my love." With that, he took her hand again and continued his leisure walk through the corridor. 

She snatched it back and remained rooted. "You will not do such a thing!" she said, her chest heaving with the mere panic of the thought. Legolas stood perfectly calm and only raised his eyebrows. "Say you will not!" she said. The elf regarded her in silence. "Say it, Legolas!"

"Forgive me, I can not," he said slowly, his eyes glued to hers. 

Irulan's mouth dropped open as she felt the walls moving in on her. "You........you........," she said, but could go no further. The elf felt a slight wave of insecurity at the thought of making her sick, but after having come this far, he dared not spoil his show. "I will leave, then!" She said finally, with flames in her eyes. "I will leave Ithilien."

"Very well," he said slowly, "I shall follow."

"WHAT?! NO! I........I will not let you!" she said, at a loss of words. 

"Really?" he said with an extremely cool poise, crossing his arms on his chest. "And how will you do that?"

"Do not force me to leave without goodbyes, Legolas."

He smiled and walked around her, in a lazy circle. "You are free to try to evade me," he said with a low voice. 

"I CAN evade you!" she said, more to convince herself than Legolas, the redness in her cheeks this time not due to shame but to anger. 

"I doubt it very much, Irulan," the elf replied as if talking to a child. He knew that Irulan, along with the rest of the kingdom must be aware of his skills as a tracker, a ranger and a warrior. "I shall follow your footsteps again," he said then, barely suppressing a grin, "and find you wherever you are. Then we can be together and it will be exactly as you want it to be – no titles for either of us. No thrones. No responsibilities. No burdens. We can live in perfect carelessness and bliss." He stood still again, giving her time to think on the statement. 

"How can you be so cruel?" she whispered, swallowing softly. 

"Forgive me," he said then, not knowing what to do. His heart was pulling, his mind was pushing, and he was feeling so.......torn. "I suppose I am desperate, Irulan. Forgive me," he whispered. He touched her cheek as she looked up. "Please do not despise me for my weakness." Irulan just looked at him, in utter confusion. "I fear that you might curse the day you have met me by the stream," he said softly, taking advantage of her daze to step closer to her. 

Irulan said nothing. She did not know the answer to that, herself. A part of her DID indeed curse that day. But another part of her refused to forget what being with Legolas had graced her with. He was the only source of happiness in her life. "Don't be foolish," she said finally and then laughed softly, realizing the way she was speaking to His Majesty! "Look at how I am already speaking to you, Legolas! This is unacceptable," she said, still laughing. "Believe me, you do not want me as your wife!"

"I can see that I am taking the risk of serious physical damage," Legolas said with a slight grin, "but I am more than willing to take it, Irulan," he added with a serious voice.

Irulan looked away and sighed. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a thought occurred to her: Aragorn. As the mental image of the Chief Advisor floated up to her, her heart took a leap. She could ask Aragorn! He would know. And not only that – he would actually prevent Legolas from doing anything of the sort! Why, Aragorn and Boromir had proven enough that they felt nothing but dislike for her and that they only wanted her to leave Ithilien! All she had to do was to explain them this bewildered state of the Prince, and they would most certainly do anything in their power to prevent Irulan from becoming the queen and Legolas from leaving the throne. 

She smiled and unconsciously exhaled in relief. She looked up to see Legolas watching her. "Let us talk about this later," she said then and the elf's eyebrows rose in surprise to that. 

"You will........consider, then?" he said, in disbelief of his luck. 

"You leave me no other choice, Legolas," Irulan said dismissively. "I will give it thought." She felt a little guilty when the elf's face suddenly lighted up visibly. "I don't know what this rush is about, Legolas. Aren't elves supposed to be patient?"

"It must be the human blood in my line," he whispered, his eyes proof that his mind was still not over the fact that Irulan was actually going to consider his proposal.

"No more pushing, then," she said with a warning tone. "You have to give me time with this."

Legolas nodded with childish excitement. "Anything you want," he whispered hastily. A moment passed between them. "How long will you consider?" the elf said then.

"Legolas!"

"I am only asking," he said immediately and even managed to add a shrug to it. 

"Don't ask then!" she said in irritation and began to walk again. Legolas pursed his lips. He WAS known for his cool patience. His fire in this matter surprised him probably more than it did Irulan.

  
"I would say that until the end of the Ball would be..."

"WHAT?! ONE day? No way!"

"One and a half days, to be exact."

"Legolas, you try my patience. I can see now how perfect a ruler for Ithilien you are. Do you always get what you want?"

"I do not remember it otherwise," he said slowly, realizing that it had been always so, indeed.

"Well too bad. I suppose you have to get used to it, then."

"How long could it take to consider a matter, anyway?" he said in exasperation, feeling surprised and annoyed at his own impatience but unable to act otherwise. "It is my experience that the more you think about a problem, the more complicated it becomes. In battle situations I prefer..."

"Would you like me to say 'no' then?" Irulan said with anger, turning to him and stopping in her tracks. 

"Of course not," he whispered, shocked. 

"Good. Cause that would be my answer if I am pushed to a hasty decision."

Legolas locked his hands behind him and looked down at her for a moment. And just when she smiled in satisfaction and turned to resume her walk, he said "Define 'hasty' then."

She moaned in frustration and picked up her skirts to walk faster, even though it was quite ridiculous. Legolas, of course, caught up easily enough, walking in perfect line with her. "Allow me to help you with your decision," he said, trying to sound matter-of-factly, though his feelings concerning it made it impossible to be so. "Let us consider the facts at hand-..."

"No, thank you. I can consider my own facts. I can make my own decision. I need no help."

"Sometimes a different opinion is very helpful."

"Not in this case. Besides, I certainly know YOUR opinion, Legolas. If I am to ask one, it will not be yours, trust me."

"Whose will it be, then?" he said in confusion. 

"I don't know," she said and shrugged. "Someone wise. Someone who is not afraid of telling me the truth. Someone who is not biased."

"You can speak to Lord Gimli," he suggested then. "He is wise in these matters. Or........well........you can speak to Dernhelm, if you like," he said and Irulan almost fell over her own gown. Legolas caught her by her elbow and steadied her. Her eyes remained glued to his as her jawbones ignored the order from her brain to close. 

The elf gave her an innocent look. "I am not prejudiced, Irulan. He is your friend, is he not?" 

After a very unnerving silence, during which her eyes narrowed to a dangerous degree, she suddenly approached him, saying "What did you two talk about, yesterday?" 

"I told you," he said calmly, "the future of Ithilien." It would not be right to say that Dernhelm had accepted the fact Legolas would marry Irulan and had decided not to stand in the way of that, any longer. No, that part was unnecessary to tell. "But I have come to realize," he added when her silence prevailed, "that he has an intelligent side to him and...."

"Oh reaaalllllyyyyy?" Irulan cut him off suddenly, and Legolas shut his mouth at the slyness of it. "How convenient that the men around me have come to an agreement about me and my life." Legolas thought it best to remain silent and simply stare back with a very blank expression, since it was his expertise. Irulan tapped her finger on her lips, regarding him. Then said with a very cool attitude: "However, it would be no man I choose to ask in such a matter." She watched a frown settle on his blank features before she continued: "I was thinking more in terms of..........Lady Arwen, actually," Irulan finished with immense satisfaction.

Legolas literally felt all sense leaving him, then. Irulan could have added "Check mate," to that sentence, and it would not sound absurd in the least. From the outside, the elf tensed very slightly. But not slight enough to evade Irulan's observation. "Why Lady Arwen?" he said a long moment later. 

She shrugged, regaining her relaxed attitude. "She seems like a wise woman. And she is certainly not.........opinionated in the matter. Or is she?" The elf swallowed softly and preferred not to answer. Most probably because he had no idea what to say. "And, I think.......I think she is quite fond of you, Legolas. She would not want you to make a wrong decision now, would she?" Irulan said in all innocence and watched the elf pale with each moment. When he still did not answer, she said "Am I mistaken?"

"I don't know," he said then, clenching his jaws and looking away. 

"I am not mistaken," Irulan said then, her amusement growing. "I meant to tell you, actually, but I forgot. She is……well…….no words are fitting but maybe I can describe her as…….GORGEOUS. Surely you must have noticed that, Legolas."

The elf continued the inspection of the intricate patterns on the arms of his tunic. "I have noticed her physical beauty, yes. She is famous for it," he said dryly. 

Irulan fought back a grin. "When I saw her yesterday, and this evening at the meal.........I could not help but think how…….." she bit her lower lip in a devilish way, "how astonishing your children would look."

Legolas gasped in shock. "WHAT?!" 

She shrugged with all innocence at that. "You are beautiful. She is beautiful. And well I thought-"

"Enough!" he said with an edgy voice. "You have a strange mind, Irulan. There is no point in thinking in that line when it will never happen."

"Why so harsh?" Irulan said in mock surprise. "Don't tell me you have never given it thought."

"I have not," he said, amazed at how Irulan managed to make him so furious so fast. 

"I certainly would have!" she said then, pretending not to see his edge. "Especially if she were to show me any interest." Legolas gave her a very dangerous look and having decided that she had strayed enough, she added "In any case. She is wise. She is a Princess –which is perfect, for she can tell me exactly what I am agreeing to-, she is a woman –she will most certainly be far more helpful to me in the matter- and she likes you enough to make sure that no harmful decision for you will me made. Excellent! I shall talk to her immediately! Come on, Legolas, let us find her!"

The elf, though, did not move. He made a mental note of telling Gimli that his book was useless – that NO man could ever beat a woman in the battle of love, then looked up at an excited Irulan. "We have plenty of time. You can talk later," he said finally, with perfect defeat in his tone.

"Why, I thought you said it was urgent," she said, a perfect smile on her lips.

"As always, you were right," he said then and grasped her hand, bringing it up for a kiss as he felt desperate beyond anything. "It would not be wise to be hasty. Let us talk about it later."

Irulan smiled and rose up on her toes to place a soft kiss on his cheek. It was her turn to say "As you wish, Legolas." Her feeling of victory did not last long, as a servant approached them and after having bowed, reported that the Prince's help and attention was demanded for an urgent matter. Legolas could not help to feel a stab of relief at that. He needed to find Master Gimli immediately and talk to him about this new development of things! Not to mention, the dangerous plan of Irulan talking to Lady Arwen. 'I am doomed for sure if that happens!' he thought in dismay and frustration. "Where shall I find you, Irulan?" he said softly. 

"I can go back to the Hall," she said with a smile, thinking that Aragorn might still be there. Legolas swallowed hard at that and prayed to the Powers above that Arwen had left the Hall. "As you wish," was all he could come up with. "I will not be long." He placed a quick kiss on her cheek and left for his office, his heart beating with fear and panic as his outer demeanor betrayed none of it. After a moment she turned to the servant, who bowed vehemently to her. "What is your name?" she said as they walked back the way Irulan had come, to re-enter the Great Hall. 

******


	24. Confusion, Indecision, Realization

Thank you everyone. You know who you are. Once again, I am flattered by your praise. 

Behold, the next chapter. The fluff is coming up, don't worry. But it would be immensely boring to write a story with fluff only. What would we do without all the devious acts of humans and elves? Without the battle of the sexes? Without manipulation and disguises? And, of course, surprises? Therefore, bear with me as the story unfolds. Or rather, folds and twists over itself. But this is, after all, day two and many things reel towards their ending. While other realizations are born. 

I will see you in a few days.

"She will talk to Lady Arwen!" said Legolas as soon as he had almost dragged Gimli away to a less crowded area. 

"She.......who........what?" said the dwarf, trying to gulp down his drink before it went the wrong way. 

"Lady Arwen! About the marriage!" the elf said with impatience, running his hand through his hair. "It will be the end of everything!"

"W-what..........Prince Legolas! How could you agree to such a thing?!"

"Agree?" exclaimed the other with surprise, "I did not agree to anything! But I could hardly deter her now, could I?"

"But deter her you must! I mean.......Lady Arwen! Irulan is a very fine and fragile woman. Not to say that the Princess herself is not.......but........"

"She would eat Irulan alive, I know it!"

Gimli sighed. "So you proposed her?" he said a long moment later, trying to calm them both down and delve into the details of the subject. 

"Aye, I did."

"And how did she take it?"

"Not.........very well, I must admit," was the reluctant answer. 

"Considering her fragile state.......and the unexpectedness of this proposal, I would say it very normal," Gimli said, to lift up the spirits of the elf a little. 

"So I say to myself," sighed Legolas and looked away. "But......I can not help to think that I am pushing her too far. This......overload........can be hazardous to her health, to say the least."

"Prince Legolas," Gimli intervened with a cold voice, "do you want her as your wife or not?"

Legolas locked eyes with him and the dwarf barely suppressed a shiver. "More than anything," he hissed with cold determination. 

"Then you can not give up now! You can not show weakness now!"

Legolas pursed his lips. "It is what I want, yes," he murmured, his gaze wandering away again. "But........what about what SHE wants, Master Gimli?" At that, he returned his gaze to the dwarf and fixed him with the blue focus of his eyes. The dwarf only swallowed hard in response. "The thought that I am pushing her into something that will cause the slightest regret in times to come, is keeping me awake at night."

"I wish I could help you, Sire," Gimli finally said to that. "But I do not know what is good for Lady Irulan. Or for you. Or for myself, for the matter. I only know that there are chances in life that come once, and then leave with a fluttering of wings, never to roam our skies again. And that they fall prey to other hunters in time. You can go ahead and take this chance –with force, if must be- or you can give it flight and watch Fate taking over. If you are prepared for the option of losing her, that is."

Legolas took a deep breath and thought about his words. The option of losing Irulan? No, that was not possible. Not anymore. Not after he had come to love her like he did. Not after he had lived through the intimacy between them. If he had lost her before, it would have been an option. During their meetings in the forest, it would have been possible. He would have remembered her with longing and a stab of pain and that would be it. After their first kiss it would have been an option. He would have wept with the missing and lose all hope in life, yes. But not now. Not anymore. If he lost her now, he knew he was doomed to die with the longing. To die with something beyond his control. Something known as Grief to the elves and a heartbreak of utter power. 

The idea of his own death was not what concerned him, though. It was the idea of letting Irulan slide into a destiny that would perhaps make her unhappy for the rest of her life - that made him hesitate. What if she was indeed destined to be queen, as his heart told him? What if this was her way to happiness and she would step out of it due to his indecision? He wished he could differentiate his emotions from his thoughts. He wished he could be just in the matter and make the right decision. 

The intensity of his emotions made it so damn difficult! The moment he thought about Irulan, his heart melted into a fist of fire. He had felt affection before. Liking, yes. Even infatuation. But not love. He knew that now – if what he felt about Irulan was love and not something more, he certainly had not loved anyone like that before. 

He looked out into the crowd that was now adorned with arriving guests and the glamour of gowns and tunics. His eyes saw none of it. He wanted Irulan. No, that was an understatement. He NEEDED her. He tried to imagine to continue life without her, now. He tried to imagine her gone. That he would wake up alone, get dressed alone, go see his duties alone, stroll in the gardens alone or with his advisors. That he would dine alone, ride alone, and then go to bed alone. Not speak sometimes for hours. Not talk about anything interesting or honest, sometimes for days. Until he felt frustrated enough to leave to check on the borders of Ithilien, or his armies, or other cities just for the sake of doing something. Not to mention – alone. 

Legolas took a deep breath and turned back to Gimli. "I dare not lose her. All I can do is put my faith in the Valar and hope that they will prevent any wrong on my behalf."

Gimli only nodded to that. "Then why are you wasting time with me? Go and fight your battle!"

Legolas smiled at that and bowing his head to the dwarf, began to walk towards the Grand Hall with pure determination to conquer the fortress first, and THEN think about the consequences of his actions. 

******

"I need to talk to you!" 

Aragorn broke his gaze from Arwen, who had been talking to a group of elves and turned around to see Irulan looking at him with alarm and anxiety. 

"Lady Irulan!" he managed to say and then swiftly looked around to see where Legolas was. 

"He was called for urgent business," she added hastily.

"Oh," the ranger said and diverted his gaze to her. "So we meet again," he said a long moment later. 

"Come on," she said and resisting the urge to pull him by the arm, walked away from the crowd with a surprised Aragorn following. They walked for a few minutes in silence, Irulan just walking towards the Grand Garden that was circling the Grand Hall in a wide semi-circle. When the dense crowd around had given in to a much less crowded one under the trees towards the depths of the seemingly endless garden, she turned to face him again and Aragorn, whose thoughts were busy with what this could be about, instantly stopped and put on a blank expression. 

"Aragorn, I need your help!" she said finally, biting her lower lip, her hands curled into fists, unconsciously pulling the skirt of her gown. 

"I figured as much," was his dry reply. He looked at her for another long moment, then said "Why did you not tell me that you and the Prince knew each other all this time?"

Irulan rolled her eyes. "None of your damn business, that's why!" she hissed. At the surprised expression of the man, she took a deep breath and looked away. "It's not like I see you every day, Chief Advisor. I had no way of telling anyway!"

The man scratched his chin to that, urging her to continue with the walking. Casting another glance around her, Irulan walked on and Aragorn kept pace with her. "So what is it that you need help in?" he said and the tell-tale signs of his infamous grin appeared on his face. 

"He means to……..he said he wants us to……I mean…….well……."

"Let me guess…….he means to marry you?"

Irulan froze in mid-step and looked up, her mouth hanging open. The ranger, enjoying the show very much, did not break her trance for several moments. 

"How?......."

"He told me," he said, not wishing to tell her that he actually told it to more people than just him. 

"Dear Heavens!" whispered Irulan in shock. So he MEANT it! Even though she doubted Legolas to lie to her about something like that, she had still hoped that he was…….joking? "What will we do?!" she said in alarm and unconsciously gripped his arm. 

"Don't tell me that you seriously mean to refuse or something like that!" he said sarcastically, knowing that no woman in the kingdom would refuse such a proposal. Forget about being a queen – no woman would refuse Legolas, even without a crown. Obviously he did not know Irulan. When she remained silent he glanced back at her and his features showed utter surprise with the realization that Chemarit, whose speach about Irulan he had witnessed her yesterday evening, might have been right after all! "You mean to refuse," he whispered in shock. 

"Of course I mean to refuse!" she hissed with anger. 

Aragorn just stared at her with a feeling that he seemed to have forgotten and that was becoming habitual in the last couple of weeks: pure surprise. She stared back in pure anger. "Why?" he managed to say several moments later and he was surprised it came out at all. 

Irulan rolled her eyes. "What is it with the bunch of you?! WHY? It is the reasonable thing to do, that's why!" The man just remained exactly as he was. "I don't want to get married, you fool!" she said with a low voice finally. 

"Don't want to get married?" he said, his features twisting into confusion. "What kind of woman-"

"Oh stop it! And even if I did want to get married – I certainly don't want to be Queen of Ithilien! I mean I still have a brain!"

The Ranger looked away, annoyed at his own lack of words and swallowed, narrowing his eyes and trying to gain back his wits. This woman was not full of surprises. She was surprise itself! It had been a mistake to think of her as a common girl. A grave mistake. Which brought back his own mistake concerning her and the deal they had made. And behold – there was that bleak feeling again!

"Aragorn!" she said and shook his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. "You have to help me, and I mean it. The fate of the damn kingdom is at risk here!"

"Just say no, then," he said, waving his arm in frustration, still at a loss of words. 

"I tried to!"

"You WHAT?!"

"He said he will leave the crown! The elf is MAD!"

Aragorn stared at her for another moment with utter shock, then realizing that there were still too many servants around for his liking, roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her very unceremoniously further towards the deserted paths of the garden. Irulan, feeling the pain in her arm at his steely grip, just bit her lip and gathering her skirts with her free hand, ran on to match his long strides. Finally they arrived in a spot under the soft light of lanterns hanging on the higher branches. The crowd of the palace was a distant colorful flutter of gowns in the distance. 

"Tell me this whole thing. From the damn beginning this time!" he hissed and Irulan shrank bank at his expression. The grinning Aragorn was gone. In his stead, a man of grave dominance and raw power stood before her. 

"Alright," she winced and deftly took her arm back. Then she looked around her, at the softly swinging branches of the trees and for a moment, listened to their melodious sound as the music from the castle joined it, to still her thoughts. "One day I was walking in the forest," she began and looked up to the Chief Advsisor as her tale unfolded under his blank gaze. 

****

"Do you think he might seriously leave the kingdom?" she said, biting her nails. 

Aragorn knew Legolas well enough to know that he would not. His conscience would not let him. If pushed to a choice, he would choose the throne. He was Prince for nothing. He would always choose the throne at his own cost. But for him to say that……..Aragorn was not a stupid man. Oh no, far from it. If he said that, he obviously meant for Irulan to believe so. He thought about what to do. He could tell Irulan the truth and let her walk out of his life. Out of the life of everyone. And definitely away from the throne of Ithilien which, no doubt, was more important than anyone and anything. The Prince would probably never get over it. He would never be the same. But he would rule, nevertheless. Ithilien would still have a King. And a good one, at that. That option was a very sound one. 

Option two – he could play along with Legolas and end up making Irulan Queen of Ithilien and the elf's wife. That option was definitely not right. 

And yet……….

Aragorn did not even have to check back on his heart to know the answer. That inner voice that he was famous for, that had saved his life and the life of others uncountable times was there, singing softly in the background. It was drastic. It was radical. And yet, this woman standing before him, biting her nails, alarmed and frightened like a little child, was meant to be queen. He knew it like he knew that he was Aragorn, son of Arathorn. A servant with no name, no face, no past would be Queen. And it was right. It was simply Fate. It was the wish of the Valar. Who was he to object to such things?

"Well do you?!" she burst despite herself. 

"I do," he said softly, massaging his temple. 

"WHAT?!"

Aragorn sighed. 'Let the games begin!' he thought silently. Outwardly he just put on a mask of worry. "I am afraid Legolas is the kind of elf to do that."

Irulan just opened and closed her mouth in shock. "Well DO SOMETHING!" she managed finally. 

"Such as what, my lady?" he said with irritation. 

"Such as……..such as……..talk to him! Or better yet, show me the damn exit of this place, cause no one else will! I dare not wait till the end of the Ball for the reward of my deal, Aragorn. Help me to go now." At the blue stare of the Advisor she just continued: "Do it for Ithilien. I mean……..you seriously can not want me to be QUEEN now, can you?!"

Aragorn, still amazed of the way she was reacting to the throne, looked at her with awe. And a new feeling…….which he recognized to be respect. 

"Why do you look at me like that?"

The ranger took a deep breath and shook himself out of the daze. "Nothing. It is just……..nevermind. I will try to talk to him. But know this – once Legolas has set his mind on something, there is unfortunately not much to do about it."

"Then forget the talking! Help me evade him."

"You seriously plan to run away from the Prince of Ithilien?" he said, unable to keep it in. 

"Well……under the circumstances…….yes!" she yelped. "I mean…….I love him. I really do." She bit her lower lip and turned away at that. "But this is a mistake. I am not made to be queen."

"And what will happen to him if you…….disappear?" the man said slowly, observing her state. 

Irulan swallowed softly at that, disturbed by the idea. "I…..I don't know," she said slowly. Then added with exasperation: "Oh, he'll be fine! He'll meet someone…….someone else. He'll get over it." She shut her mouth, annoyed at the shaky tone of her voice and at the amount of pain she felt with the idea. 

Aragorn regarded her in silence. "You obviously do not know the Prince too well, Lady Irulan," he said finally, very slowly. She looked up at that. "He is not exactly the type to fall in love with the season and get carried away with the merriment of it," he added dryly, trying to understand the odd way this event had turned out to be. 

"He has a kingdom to rule! He'll be too busy to think about me. He'll be fine," she said curtly and looked away. 

"You are mistaken," Aragorn said flatly and ignored the furious look in her dark eyes. "Alas, I can not help you with your escape, anyway. It is simply not possible to run from Legolas. You will get caught –never doubt that for a moment- and then it'll be MY head flying into some basket."

"Aragorn, listen…."

"No. I have spent YEARS in his company, woman. NO ONE evades the elf! He is an amazing ranger. A fabulous tracker. Next to me, that is. But nevertheless. Not to mention that for him to appear somewhere would suffice to make people talk. He will find you, if that is his intention. And then things will be even more complicated than they already are. I know a bad plan when I hear one. And this is a bad plan!" 

Irulan huffed in fury and stomped her foot. The Chief Advisor just watched her doing so in amazement. "Maybe he will not follow!"

"Right," was his dry reply. 

"You are a coward, Aragorn!"

The man broke into loud laughter at that. "Next to you, I am as courageous as it gets! At least I am not making escape plans!"

Irulan pursed her lips in fury. Then suddenly an expression of surprise came over her. She slowly turned to the ranger and narrowing her eyes, shifted on her feet for a more leisure look. "I can help you in return, you know," she said with a sly smile. 

"Pardon me?"

She shrugged at that. "With Lady Arwen." His eyes widened against all his control. Irulan smiled her sly smile again. "I can talk to her………say what a wonderful person you are………how brave you are……and all that other crap!" she finished with anger. 

"I do not need your help!" he said stiffly and looked away. 

"Oh really?" she mused, "I was under the impression that Lady Arwen needs some steering to divert her from the…….direction she is heading to."

The ranger pursed her lips and gave her a dirty look. Irulan's eyebrows rose in mock innocence at that. "Women never listen to men. They listen to women. I can be very effective, trust me."

"I said no!" he hissed with pure anger. 

"Fine," Irulan said. "Have it your way," she said with a leisure tone and looked away in disinterest. "You help me, I'll help you."

"You know, I think the Prince should marry you, after all. Not only are you devious enough to rule Ithilien, but you would obviously also clear my way for Lady Arwen. Now that I think of it……..it seems pretty much to my advantage, Lady Irulan!"

Irulan gave him a very sour look. "That's not funny!"

"Who is laughing?"

"Stop it! All you have to do is point to the exit, you stubborn goat!"

"I think I will refuse," he said with a grin.

Irulan was about to reply, when Legolas' voice surprised them both. "*I* can show you the exit easily enough, Irulan!" He walked towards them, his hands clasped behind his back. She blushed a deep pink while the Chief Advisor swallowed softly and bowed slightly to His Majesty. The elf came to stand next to them, looking from one to the other. "What is the matter?"

"Nothing," she said with a low voice. The elf looked down at her with that penetrating gaze and decided not to ask her why she had called the Chief Advisor a…….stubborn goat. He pursed his lips to keep off the grin. Instead, he turned to Aragorn with a hard look. And he was not surprised that the man came undone at that look, like any other would. Even though Legolas was careful not to appear menacing and threatening towards Irulan, he had a far different image with others and everyone else feared the Prince to a great extend. 

"She asked for my help to escape, Sire," the ranger said. Irulan's head snapped up at that and her eyes almost bulged out. "It is true," the ranger shrugged. He was determined to look pleasant in Legolas' eyes. And determined to keep Irulan here. And determined to make her marry the elf……….for some VERY personal reasons as well. So……….it was natural, was it not?

"Why, you…….." Irulan began and when both men looked down at her with a cool expression, curious as to which words she would pick, she shut her mouth. 

"And you refused?" the elf said with a cool voice. 

"Aye, Sire. I have. I would never go against your word," the ranger said, grinning with pleasure at the woman's blistering. 

"And go against the word of your queen?" Legolas said suddenly and both woman and man almost choked on their own emotions. 

"B-but….Sire!" was all Aragorn could come up with after a formidable silence.

"Though I am glad for your loyalty, it proves that you still have a difficult time seeing her in her new title, Aragorn. I want that to change as from NOW. Understood?" The Advisor blinked a few more moments, then nodded vehemently and bowed, asking for permission to leave. Legolas granted him permission and bowing to Irulan as well, he almost ran away from the couple. 

Irulan watched him disappear, her mouth still hanging open. Then she remembered the elf standing beside her and blushing even a deeper red, looked down with shame. "Go ahead, say it!" she mumbled a moment later. 

"You look magnificent with that blush, Irulan!" he said softly and surprised her by leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. She remained silent and did not move away. "Very well," he said with a tired sigh, sounding unhappy to talk about it in the first place, "what is this I hear about an…….escape?" 

"Legolas……..," she squirmed, "I……..you leave me no choice! I feel…….I need more time!"

"So you decided to run away?" he said, astonished. 

"That damn advisor of yours!" she hissed despite herself.

"He did the right thing, Irulan," the elf said to that. "We have to be more careful, my love," he added more cautiously. "About how we appear. I do not want our differences of opinion or arguments to be observed by others." The woman looked up at him with confusion. He gently took her hand and began to walk towards the palace once more. "If I take their side, they will never respect you. If you take their side, they will lose respect to me. And they will think to have found a way to manipulate either of us against the other." He caressed her cheek softly. "We shall always stand up for one another. Against the whole world, if need be. Then no one will dare to question us." 

She took a deep breath and nodded. It had been foolish to think of playing Legolas with his own Chief Advisor. Now that she thought of it……..she had given Aragorn perfect leverage over the Prince and over herself. If he had been a mistrustable man, she might have caused a far more serious problem. Even as trustable as he was, it was disrespectful to the Prince to do so. And it gave the ranger an advantage over Legolas. It was a mistake she would not make again. She would not try to get help from anyone in her problems with Legolas from any person in royal circles. No, she would simply have to do this alone. 

"See what I mean?" she said finally. "I am so ignorant in these matters! I made a grave mistake and I did not even realize until this moment! I can never learn diplomacy!"

Legolas silenced her with a kiss. "Unkind words about yourself again, Irulan?" he whispered, wiping the hair from her face, "I shall not tolerate it. Even from you!" He was silent for a moment as the music, growing more prominent with each step, washed over them like a soothing touch. "As to your plans," he said then, "I can show the exit, as I said that I could. And you can leave any time."

"I can?" she said, dumbfounded. 

The Prince nodded to that. "Though I shall follow." Irulan rolled her eyes in disappointment. "However, if you marry me, my wedding gift to you will be all the freedom you desire," he said, turning to her again. 

"You think I will run away," she said with astonishment, realizing that the rush of the elf was due to a fear that he would lose Irulan for good if he did not tie a bond with her first. 

"And you have just confirmed my thoughts," he said matter-of-factly. 

"Well……." She said, a little embarrassed again and remained silent after that, cursing the turn of events and her own stupidity.

Legolas sighed and gently took her hand. "I understand, Irulan. I really do. Let us put our faith in the Force that has crossed our paths, in the first place." 

Irulan pursed her lips to keep from saying "No, you don't!" He just did NOT understand. She was certain that Legolas was not being selfish. He was most certainly insisting for this to happen more for her sake then for his own. For some stupid, strange reason he was convinced that she should rule Ithilien! And no matter what she did, he simply refused to be convinced. And there she was, a woman who, barely weeks ago was a servant with dreams of freedom, determined to roam Middle Earth and never to get married, facing everything she had been afraid of! Everything she had been against, everything she had detested lay before her. She had hated gowns, now she was wearing one. She had hated the rich circles, now she was in one. She had hated cages, now she was very swiftly walking into one! Hell, before she met Legolas, she had not been even interested in love! And true, now she DID love him. That feeling was irreplaceable in its intensity. She wanted Legolas - no doubt about that. She wanted to remain with him. But not like this, damn it! Not in this environment! 

One can not understand what one has until one loses it. It is the very law of the universe. Never had Irulan thought that she would miss the freedom she had barely days ago. The freedom of lying on the grass of the deserted forest, looking up to the clouds as a soft summer breeze caressed her face. The freedom of lying there with Eowyn, talking about foolish and unimportant things. Not a care in the world. Not a single responsibility. No one else to think about. She would never be free in that sense, again. A feeling of utter misery came over her and finally finding the courage to do so, she looked up at him to speak her mind. To say "No." It was simple. A single word. "No, Legolas. I can not." Or better yet, "No, Legolas. I do not want to." Pain would come, yes. And disappointment. But......it would pass in time, would it not? 

The elf stopped in mid-step at the expression on her face. For no apparent reason, a feeling of alarm came over him and as foolish as it was, he simply did not want to hear the words she would utter now. He gazed down at her, concentrating on the feeling of their entwined hands, to keep off any other unpleasant thought and waited, holding his breath. "Legolas," she said and his heart stopped beating at the tone of it. The certainty of something dreadful coming invaded his mind. Unconsciously he held on stronger on her hand as his eyes remained glued to hers. "Legolas," Irulan began again and forced herself to look away to make things easier. 

If she had not, once more, the story would have ended very different. But as it was, she looked away and at that very moment, perhaps by pure luck, or perhaps as the result of some miracle sent by Higher Powers, she spotted Lady Arwen in the distance. And though she meant to utter far different words, her sentence ended with "there she is."

Both of them blinked and looked at each other in surprise at that ending. Irulan opened her mouth again, but realized that she had lost the moment when Legolas looked away to see whom she meant, and at the sight of the Rivendell princess, had to use all his willpower to suppress a flinch. 

Irulan felt both disappointed and oddly........glad. She sighed with both frustration and relief and it felt very very strange, to say the least. "There she is," she said again, to gain a moment of understanding, but the understanding evaded her. She took her hand back and looked up at him while he looked back with something that could only be described as elvish terror. "With your permission, Legolas," she said hastily, glad to be leaving his presence at the moment, since she was unable to shake off the confusion that had overcome her so, and turned to walk towards Arwen, who was walking gracefully along the long tables, her hand entwined in Lord Elrond's arm.

He remained rooted for a moment, baffled by the drastic turn of events in such a short time. Why did he feel so........relieved? Then his brain began to function again and, realizing that the turn of events might have been for the worse, after all, dashed after her. "Irulan, wait!"

She turned around so fast, if not for his elven reflexes, Legolas would have run into her for certain. "What is it, Legolas?" was her impatient reply. 

"I was thinking.........I mean........" he stopped and took a deep breath, then started anew, with a calmer voice: "Irulan, please do not talk to her!" With that, he gently touched her arm, his blue gaze fixed on her.  

She looked up in surprise. A silence set between them as his blue eyes bore into hers. "And why do you ask of such a thing?" she said very slowly a long moment later. 

"I fear that she will do more harm than good in this matter," he said, grasping her hand softly and holding it between his. 

Irulan turned to face him completely, then. "Do you deem me stupid, Legolas?"

"Certainly not!" was the stunned reply. 

"Good thing you don't. Because I am far from it," she said with a cold voice. "I see many things." She removed her hand and he pursed his lips, feeling desperate but unable to interfere as she continued and he listened in alarm. "I see that many whom I believe to be friends or dear to me, are trying to manipulate me, Legolas." He tried, but failing to control the widening of his eyes, hastily looked away to prevent her from seeing it. "And the funny thing is, they think I see none of it! But I do. And it brings pain to my heart."

At that, he turned to lock eyes with her again. "I am certain that it is with the best intentions, Irulan," he said softly.

"So it is acceptable?" He clenched his jaws and looked over the crowd, trying very hard to gather his wits, but failing to. His silence gave her the chance to continue: "It matters not. What I was trying to say is that I am far from foolish. And if you have faith in that, you should have faith in the fact that I will make the right decision – no matter what Lady Arwen's intentions are. I most certainly will see through her. Just like I see through all others."

She remained silent then, staring hard at him as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

"I can not help it!" he thundered suddenly and she flinched slightly despite herself. "All this..........is driving me insane!" Irulan watched in amazement as his desperation colored into fury. "So much.......confusion! So much chaos! So many people mingling and interfering! Forget all about them. This is about US!" he moved closer to her and placed his palms on her cheeks. "Leave them be. I don't need others to tell me what I want. I know it already. I want you," he said softly, caressing her cheek. "No matter how. No matter why. I want you. Cursed be everything and everyone else!"

Irulan took a deep breath. "You know what you want. Now I have to discover what *I* want, Legolas," she said finally. 

He stared at her with obvious pain. "You do not want........me?" he whispered and it came out with such pain, that Irulan felt compelled to soften her attitude. 

"I do!" she said, gentler and turned back to him, not taking her hand back from him. "I do. I love you, Legolas." A slight relief seemed to wash over him at that. 

"Then why the hesitation?"

She bit her lower lip and looked away again. "I do not want to make a mistake!" she said finally, with a louder voice. "What if it costs you? What if it costs Ithilien?" He opened his mouth, but she held up her hand. "Just.........just let me clear my head. I want to be certain of my actions."

"No matter how wise you come to be in the matter, you may still make a mistake. We can not know such things ahead. We will never know. It is no reason for missing the chances in life, Irulan," he said softly. 

"Yes," she sighed. And then again, "yes. But........I am human, Legolas. I suppose feeling torn and indecisive is my permanent flaw."

"You have no flaws," he said then, stepping closer to her and caressing her cheek again. 

"I have many. And I would prefer it if you loved me despite them, instead of ignoring them altogether," she said with a sigh. 

"I see none," he insisted gently. "How can they be flaws when they make you who you are? I love you the way you are, Irulan."

"Legolas," she said finally and took her hand back, "if you know the cure for my indecision, let me hear it. Until then, I must do what I must deem necessary." She ignored his expression of frustration and continued: "If I am such a weak and deterable person, I am not fit to be queen now, am I? And if not, it should be no problem for me to talk to anyone about anything. I will see you later, Legolas."

The Prince watched in helplessness as Irulan picked up her skirts and strode in the direction of the other woman. His mind reeled over and over again, but found nothing to change the situation. Finally giving in to his Fate, he began to walk towards the crowd, himself, in hope of finding something that would distract him and help to endure the torture of waiting. "I am doomed!" he thought in dismay as fury came over him. "If that woman so much as says a single word to hurt Irulan......" he hissed, but refused to finish the sentence at the realization that he had reached the limits of his power. He gazed up to see Irulan and Arwen exchanging words. The territory lying before his eyes, the land where women ruled, was simply beyond his reign. He could be ruling all Middle Earth and it would mean nothing. There would always be that piece of land he would never enter - let alone, reign. He sighed and looked away as his feet carried him on. By the looks of it, this was the perfect moment to renew faith and begin to pray. 

*****

"Lady Arwen, do you have some time?"

The elf, recognizing Irulan's voice even before she turned to face the woman, could not help an expression of surprise to wash over her features. She retrieved her hand from her father's arm and made an elegant turn to face the direction the voice had come from. 

"Lady Irulan! Most certainly I do. What is this about?" she said in her chiming voice. 

"There is a matter........I wish to know your opinion about. If it is not too much trouble?"

Arwen barely kept her mouth from falling open. Her arch rival was indeed an original and unique one. For one thing, she never had a rival before. True, there had been other women competing with her, but they had been so short-lived that Arwen would not classify them as rivals. Unlike her. And they had certainly never had been so........different from her in so obvious ways. If asked before, the elf would have said that Irulan's physical looks, the characteristics of her race and kind and all other attributes of her life were far inferior to her own. But having observed none of these so-called inferiorities keeping her from making someone like Legolas fall head over heels for her, she knew better than to be so careless. No doubt that there was something about this woman that surpassed herself. And what that was, Arwen had no idea. But she was determined to find out. All else aside, for Irulan to come and ask HER opinion in a matter........now that had certainly never happened before. 

"I would feel honored to say the least if I can be of any help," she said absent-mindedly, the words falling out of her mouth but her brain but really caring about what they were. 

Irulan smiled at that. "Walk with me, please."

Arwen gave Lord Elrond an astounded look, to which the other replied in cool curiosity, then gracefully gathered her skirts and moved on to join the woman who had already taken a few steps towards the borders and less crowded parts of the garden. 

Though it was their intention, neither spoke for a while. Finally it was Irulan who broke the silence: "What you said at the dinner table today.........you were very right, Lady Arwen."

"Please call me only Arwen, Irulan," the other said warmly, thereby getting rid of the formality between them before it could build up. The other woman nodded and continued:

"Thank you. Many things are happening in my life right now. And......I have many friends. And people who care about me, no doubt. But.......I can not help to feel pressured and pushed and manipulated into decisions. Perhaps it is a normal thing to do. But......I HATE it!" yelped Irulan and thereby finally breached the formal attitude she felt forced to wear. 

Arwen blinked at the change of her expression, but made no mention of it. "Yes, it seems to be the way of things. Especially for a woman."

"Exactly!" exclaimed Irulan in excitement. "It is all about being a woman! And not that I do not enjoy being one, but I am so tired of being the woman in other people's head! Of living up to their expectations!"

The elf laughed softly at that. "You speak the words that have been echoing in my heart for too long, Irulan."

"I know you like Legolas," Irulan said suddenly and the other woman froze in mid-step, shocked out of mobility. "Do not get me wrong," Irulan added hastily, "it is perfectly understandable. I mean, any woman would. Right?"

Arwen just stared back at her for a long moment, stunned. Then she merely nodded her head. "Yes," was her whisper of a reply. Another silence passed between them. Finally she felt compelled to continue: "I have.......liked.......him for a long time."

Irulan sighed as her gaze wandered around. She spotted Legolas in the distance, a very anxious look on his face as he observed them. In return she gave him a sour look and then gently grabbed the elf by the arm to make her move along again. Arwen only complied in silence. "Long before my time, I know," Irulan continued, barely keeping herself from glancing over her shoulder. "And why he has not sought intimacy with someone like you, is truly beyond me!"

At that, the princess once again froze in mid-step and turned to regard Irulan with wide eyes. All her training in diplomacy seemed to be for nothing, at the moment, for she could not keep being dumbfounded and worse, she could not keep Irulan from observing that. 

Irulan only sighed in frustration. "Why is everyone so surprised by that opinion? I mean.....you are magnificent! In any and every way you are the finest living, breathing being I have ever seen! And I do not mean just physically."

"Well......" tried Arwen, astounded by the turn of events, "well.......thank you. But.......certainly that can not suffice for the matters of the heart."

"I know, I know!" the other said, and proceeded to walk, gently pulling Arwen along. "The matters of the heart are so.....strange. But that does not change my opinion in the least - one has to be both blind and stupid to pass you by with disinterest."

The elf laughed with shock and delight. "I suppose you have just called the Prince-"

"Yes I have. I mean......look at whom he picked!" she said, standing before the elf and looking up to her, arms slightly outstretched. 

Arwen could not help being impressed. Against her best wishes, she simply could not help being amazed by this creature. "I think he was right after all," she said with a low voice a very, very long time later. "You ARE being too modest, Irulan."

Irulan, having spotted Legolas again and having observed that the distance between them had remained the same, although they had walked a good deal since her last spotting, gave him a very sharp glance and turned her back to him in fury. She glanced up at the woman, then. "No. You are being too kind. In any case," she continued her stroll, glad that they had finally reached much less crowded regions in the garden, "I need your help and opinion in the matter of Legolas."

"You do?" was the shocked reply. 

She nodded curtly. "And I know of no other who would give me a honest and unbiased opinion. No other who would not try to manipulate me, for a change!"

The Rivendell elf stopped again. 'Either she is downright stupid, or a fabulous woman,' she thought suddenly and although her answer would have been the first option merely minutes ago, now she could not be sure as to which one she would pick. She decided to get rid of the disguise and formalities as well, then: "Irulan, why me? You know I like - no, I LOVE Legolas. For years now! And I even told you so. And still you ask me?! Did it never cross your mind that I might misguide you on purpose in the matter? That I might play so that I can get him back?" She threw her arms up and that looked indeed strange for a woman like Arwen. "How can you be so certain about me?"

"Everyone else probably thinks you would do those things," Irulan said a moment later, her voice taking a serious tone. "But *I* know better. I know you would not."

Arwen just opened and closed her mouth in her attempt to speak. "WHY?!" she managed to croak finally. 

"Because," sighed the other woman and looked into the dark distance of the garden, "because…....of many things. I come to you as a woman. I wish I could say 'friend', but that is something only you can decide on. As a woman, nevertheless. And I know that no other can understand me better than you do, being a woman yourself. And a woman who, too, loves Legolas. But, there is more than that to the story." She looked up to the marvelous beauty in front of her. "You DO love Legolas. And I know that you would not want to make a decision that would cause him unhappiness. No matter what the outcome would be for yourself."

For the fourth time, Arwen halted her steps. She kept her head down, looking away on a grassy patch to the right, as her head reeled and spun and twisted. For now that Irulan had uttered the words, she knew with desperate certainty that they were true. No matter what the outcome for herself.........Though the elf could not remember crying for the longest time, she felt tears creeping up to her eyes and that surprised her beyond anything. Her slender fingers went up to the corner of her eye and her features twisted into wonder. No matter what the outcome for herself..........

All those years, dusted and unused with the longing for another. For Legolas. All the time she had spent thinking of him, imagining him, wishing for him. All the hours she had sat and wished to hear his voice. See his sight.........Lost years. Lost in the vortex of sad unfulfilled ardor. Lost time, unlived as the shadow of a loved one had tainted them beyond use. And now she stood at the verge of gaining it all back. A single push, and Irulan would be out of the picture. Arwen was not naive. She knew that she could do this. She could manipulate this woman as many others were doing anyway. And why should it be wrong? It was the way of things, was it not? It was the way leading to Legolas. So.........one single push and no more Irulan. Legolas could finally be hers. A Legolas, she had forced into the very same vortex of sad longing till the end of his years. A Legolas that would, very much like she had done for countless times, sit in the dark silence of his room, thinking of Irulan, imagining Irulan, wishing for Irulan. 

No matter what the outcome for herself.........

"Why are you crying?" came Irulan's anxious voice suddenly and she broke out of her trance. She brought her fingers back and laughed despite herself at the moistness. "You must forgive me!" Irulan said urgently, using all her willpower to resist the urge to bite her nails. 

"For what?" chuckled Arwen, wiping away the tears. 

"For.....whatever!" Irulan said, unconsciously grabbing the elf's arm. "Whatever I have said to make you upset!"

"Nay, you have said nothing. Nothing but the truth, Irulan," Arwen said softly. "And that can only set one free, is it not so?" She locked eyes with the human woman and realized that in her panic and inability to understand, Irulan, too, had began to cry. 'I can not BELIEVE I hurt such a woman!' was all Irulan could think. 'To think that I am even capable of conversing with someone like her!'

"I........I don't know what to say," Irulan said finally.

"I do," Arwen said, wiping the remnants of her tears away. "I was right after all. You see, Irulan, I never lost Legolas. For I did not have him to begin with." She took a deep breath and gently squeezed the shoulder of the other. "But......the day you two met, the decision was made. It would be foolish to see choice in this matter."

"No choice?" said Irulan in amazement, wiping her tears away as well. 

Arwen shook her head with sorrow. "Nay. As much as I dislike the idea - Master Gimli was right in that. You have choice in what to do, of course. But not in what would be the RIGHT thing to do."

"And the right thing would be......"

"Well for you to be with him, of course!" Arwen said with delight, laughing softly at their strange state.

"Against all odds?" Irulan said with disbelief, wiping at her face once more. "But, I mean......"

"Against all odds, yes," Arwen broke in softly and looked down at the shorter woman. "Love is too precious a thing to be missed. It is the core of life itself. We Eldar thrive on just the idea of finding our true soul mate. You can NOT turn your back on such a thing - it would be an open curse to life itself, Irulan."

Irulan just sighed in desperation and looked away. "I was hoping that you would give me a different answer," she murmured almost inaudibly, but Arwen heard her nevertheless. She sniffed softly.

"Things do not always turn out as we hope. But.......we must have faith in the Valar and the plans they have made for us. A wise woman once told me that a woman should be with the man who loves her, not the man whom she loves. In your case, you need no such distinctions. You are very blessed indeed."

Irulan began to laugh softly. "Legolas would be so surprised to hear those words from you!"

Arwen laughed, too. "I can imagine. I am bewildered to have spoken them, myself!"

They laughed softly, continuing their stroll in lazy silence, each lost in their own thoughts. "About what you just said....." Irulan began then, glancing up at the other woman. At Arwen's raised eyebrows, she added "The part about the man who loves you........I would deem you not so unlucky either, Arwen."

A beautiful smile crept on the elf's lips. "Ah, admirers I have. I am aware of that. But love.......I dare not think that any of them truly feels that for me."

"Oh, but one does." She waited until the princess locked eyes with her before she continued: "I am probably the last person to varnish the image of that horrible Chief Advisor........And you most probably know, in your wisdom, that he is head over heels for you....."

"Aragorn?" Arwen said in surprise and halted. 

Irulan nodded in surprise. "You did not know?"

"Well.......one sees things easier when one stands at the border of the tumult.......but I have to admit that I did not perceive anything beyond admiration from him."

"You surprise me, Arwen!" Irulan said and made sure that her expression was even more exaggerated than she felt at the moment, "I mean.....he is.........he ADORES you. Love would be a too weak word to describe it." A slight discomfort came over Irulan at the thought of doing the very thing that she had been cursing a moment ago – manipulating another. But then…….it was not real manipulation, was it? It was only a nudge. She would not lie. Not insist. Not try to convince. Just nudge a little. Her inner voice chuckled very audibly at that and Irulan cleared her throat in haste to keep it from talking. She was NOT manipulating, damn it! There was a difference, period!

Arwen remained smiling into the distance for a moment. Then, wiping the last remnants of wetness from her cheeks, said "He is a fine man."

"Now THAT, I can argue with," Irulan moaned.

The elf laughed softly. "Oh but he is. There is something immensely.......attractive......about humans. As a human yourself you perhaps would not understand. But I see it. As do many others of my kind." She gazed around the deserted part of the garden they were in and her eyes found the Prince standing in a crowded company, not too far away. She saw Aragorn and Gimli with him. As well as Gandalf and Chemarit - the old man she had met the day before. Her eyes sought to find Dernhelm then, thinking that he might be there as well, but instead, she only saw a foreign but immensely beautiful blonde woman talking to the Prince. 

Arwen turned to Irulan again and smiled a sly smile. "Men think they are so wise," she chuckled despite herself. 

"I know!" Irulan said, rolling her eyes. 

"All they want is battle!" sighed the elf with mock desperation and Irulan laughed to that. Then a moment of silent understanding set between them. One that can only be experienced between women of a certain kind. Finally Irulan looked up to her with twinkles in her eyes and said "Then it is battle they will get," with a very low voice. 

Arwen pursed her lips and clasped her hands behind her back, looking at the company of six again. Her eyes locked with the blue gaze of the Prince who gave her stare that she –even from this distance- easily recognized to be a threat. "I told you the right choice. And to that, I stand. But I never said that you should make it easy for him now, did I?" she whispered. 

Irulan could not help a grin showing up on her own features, then. "No, you have not," she said with pleasure. 

"Well then," Arwen said with a lighter tone. "We have missed the whole evening! Let us return to........make amends to that mistake......shall we?" Irulan nodded with delight and began to walk side by side with the elf, asking her things that she meant to ask for a long time now. About Rivendell. And being a princess. And her father, the infamous Lord Elrond. 


	25. Turn of Tables

Legolas was observing Arwen and Irulan's conversation from a polite distance, and barely keeping himself from striding there in person. Countless options ran through his head over and over again, with unrelenting torture. The variety and diversity of these options was baffling to say the least. But all had one common scenario: Arwen would belittle Irulan. No! More than that: She would look down on Irulan, beat her with cruel words and then tell her that it was beyond ridiculous for someone like her and the Prince to end up as a couple. She would tell Irulan of her own 'values' so to say, comparing herself to his love and make Irulan feel stupid for even daring to think of the option in the first place. 

"That woman!" he hissed in fury, clenching his jaw. He observed them halting several times and exchanging (by the looks of it) shocked and excited expressions. His feet silently followed, keeping the distance between himself and the duo. Why, he did not know. Even if he saw something that would definitely call for intervention (and what that could be, he had no idea), he most certainly could not seriously run there and 'save' Irulan from the clutch of that evil creature! More than Arwen's reaction, Legolas feared Irulan's response to such an heroic act. 

"Does not matter," he said murmured for the twenty-third time to himself. "What she says has no importance. I will persuade Irulan otherwise. I will convince her that Arwen said all those things because she is jealous and as stubborn as a goat, refusing to accept the fact that there can never be anything between the two of us, for years now!" He took a deep breath, his body moving in perfect synchrony with theirs, the gap between the two women and himself never growing. "Does not matter. I came this far. I will not lose Irulan to some evil elf!" 

Unfortunately his heart would not settle down, curse it all! This evil elf happened to be a woman and the combination was simply horrifying, for the lack of a better word. 

Right at that moment Aragorn appeared beside him. "Legolas, I have come for an apology," he said with a tense voice. Legolas, caught up in his observation of the two women, did not hear his approach. Not that he always did. Aragorn was the only human he knew who could move without being detected by an elf. 

"What apology?" 

"About Lady Irulan. You were right."

The Prince turned to face his friend. "No worries, Aragorn. I understand that the events are a little fast-paced for everyone. It certainly is not easy to see her as the queen in a matter of days."

"Nevertheless, it was a mistake. I shall handle it wiser in the future," the ranger replied. At the smile of the Prince, a relief washed over him and he exhaled deftly with the pleasure of it. His eyes glanced to the women, then, and his own anxiety became evident in his features. "What do you think they are talking about?" he asked, swallowing softly. 

Legolas took a deep breath. "My doom, would be my guess," he murmured. 

"And mine I suppose," added the Chief Advisor with dread, for he was convinced that Irulan was now doing everything in her power to kill the bud of affection that had dared to bloom between himself and the Rivendell princess. An image of Irulan with a sly, dangerous grin plastered on her face and a big, rusted scissor in her hands approaching the single rose bud with predatory calmness came to him, and he shivered despite himself. 

"Yours?" was the Prince's confused exclamation and it woke him up. 

"I...well...I would assume that..." stammered Aragorn, then blushed lightly and looked away. 

The elf, far more intrigued now at this show of embarrassment -knowing that very few things made the advisor uncomfortable- prodded on: "What is the matter, Aragorn?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all, Legolas," the other man managed to choke out, then loudly cleared his throat. 

Legolas narrowed his eyes and slowly looked him up and down. "Something IS the matter. Why won't you not tell me?"

"It is nothing, Legolas!" the ranger said with exasperation. "Nothing that concerns you or Lady Irulan, anyway."

"Which leaves Lady Arwen and yourself, I presume," was the slow deduction. When Aragorn gulped and still refused to make eye contact, the elf's mouth almost fell open with surprise. "You like her!"

"W-what?!" boomed Aragorn, "I don't know what you are talking about!"

"Oh yes you do! You like Lady Arwen!"

"Sire," hissed the other man, hastily looking around if anyone had overheard the elf's rather loud exclamation, "Can you please...I mean...let's not talk about such ridiculous…-"

"Deny it then," the Prince countered loftily, crossing his arms on his chest. 

"Well...I do not....LIKE her," Aragorn finally replied with a careful tone. It was only true - he loved her. Liking was an understatement. 

Legolas's brows furrowed in confusion. He glanced at the women who had resumed their walking, then back at Aragorn. Any other would have been convinced. Not Legolas, who had known the Ranger since they had both been little children. He was, after all, his best friend. And on top of that, the Prince happened to be an elf who loved to observe and analyze. A long silence set in as his brain worked over the past incidents that had brought the Ranger and the Princess together and he tried to remember their reactions to one another. A long string of minutes passed before he spoke again, this time his tone evidently low and astonished: "You LOVE her."

At that a distinctive color crept up Aragorn's cheeks and the advisor pursed his lips in anger. "Legolas," he began with suppressed temper, "I don't want to…-"

"And you never told me!" the Prince continued in awe, ignoring him completely. "All this time! I am your best friend, Aragorn!"

Aragorn, defeated now for good, just massaged his face for a moment. A tired sigh and his infamous shrug followed. "It would have changed nothing."

"That is not true!" exclaimed Legolas, his mind still in shock as to how such a thing, happening right under his nose, had evaded his realization for years. 'I was probably too busy trying to run from Arwen!' he thought deftly. "I could have helped."

"Helped?" was Aragorn's surprised reply as he finally turned to lock eyes with his friend. "How exactly, Prince Legolas?"

"Well," the other said with slight unease and shifted on his feet, crossing his arms on his chest again, "I...I would have thought of something! For one thing, I would have given you more errands that would have required visits to Rivendell," he finished with a slight grin. 

Aragorn smiled in return and shook his head. "It wouldn't make a difference, I assure you. Lady Arwen doesn't even SEE me. Her eyes perceive only...you," he added almost inaudibly. 

The elf did not divert his gaze from him as he stopped to think. "You loved her. And you never made a move, did you?" he said finally. When Aragorn remained silent and refused to lock eyes with him, he continued: "Alas, perhaps a few weeks ago, I would have done so, myself. It is a shame that we did not acquire Lord Gimli's book before." 

The Ranger chuckled to that. "I must admit that the change it has caused in you is evident. You were always so...reserved and...well must I say it....STIFF, Legolas."

The Prince smiled one of his beautiful smiles. "Once I broke the barrier, I realized that my well-mannered times had been a waste, my friend. I suppose I had a different idea of how a man should be, before. Master Gimli has helped me to understand and change that."

"Is that so?" Aragorn said in amusement. "So all the fortress conquering and the battles for victory and the devious schemes to win wars actually work For women of lesser complexity, perhaps. But I seriously doubt that, after having met the likes of Lady Irulan or Lady Arwen."

"The pleasure is in the quest itself, Aragorn," laughed Legolas then. "I have never felt so alive in my life!" He cocked his head and smiled slyly. "YOU of all people, should understand the excitement of the hunt. The rush of battle. The obsession to be victorious. We have too long a common history for me not to know that."

"You might be right after all," was the slow reply. 

"Oh I am," Legolas said softly, his gaze wandering to Irulan and Arwen again as another smile invaded his lips. "I have come to regret every moment I have hesitated or suffered indecision with Irulan," He sighed, momentarily lost in thought. "So much wasted time! Foolish thoughts and fears held me back, when I should have just moved ahead and broken the wall between us far sooner!" He turned back to Aragorn and locked eyes once more. "You, too, have wasted time, Aragorn. Arwen is no ordinary woman, yes, but I doubt that she would have managed to resist a man of your determination and skill for too long. But you stood aside, deeming her lost before you even attempted a battle. It is not your way."

"No, it is not," the man said slowly. 

"And it shall not be, from now on," was the careful remark, posed slightly as a question. 

"From now on," Aragorn sighed, "I don't think we will have anything to worry about, at all. Lady Irulan knows of my affection and...well...she is not very fond of me at the moment," he finished dryly. 

Legolas blinked at that. "She KNOWS? But...how?"

Aragorn shrugged. "Women!" 

Legolas forced his mouth to close and pursed his lips. For Irulan to discover something that he had been blind to for years... "I am certain that Irulan would never engage in anything that would cause harm to you or to her," he said finally. "She is an immensely good person, Aragorn. I can not imagine her doing such a thing on purpose!"

Aragorn only rolled his eyes. Good thing the Prince didn't know that Irulan was here only for her own interests and her end of the deal, and not to return his affection. "I trust no woman," he said a long moment later. "They are and will remain creatures of mysterious aims and means to me. And I mistrust everything I can not understand."

"But I trust Irulan completely," Legolas replied with a gentle tone. "Just I like trust you, Estel."

'And that, my friend, is a mistake,' thought Aragorn, but did not speak it out loud. The feeling of guilt that was a natural result of his meddling behind his best friend's back, came again and when he saw the approach of Gimli and Gandalf, he felt relieved that the conversation between himself and the Prince was over. 

****

Eowyn came running towards the women. Irulan, instantly recognizing her, but feeling astonished by her beauty anyway, stopped in mid-step. Eowyn arrived shortly and ran into her, embracing her fiercely, and she barely kept herself from tripping over her long gown. 

"Irulan!" was the happy screech of a greeting. 

Irulan, coughing from the lack of breath in her lungs, finally managed to pry herself off the blonde woman. "Eowyn, don't kill me, woman!" Even though a part of her mind kept on singing of how Eowyn needed drastic punishment for her deeds from yesterday, she could not help breaking into a chuckle, too. "You look magnificent!" she said finally, her gaze sweeping over the other's green gown. 

"Thank you. You look...wait...the same?" was the cheeky reply. "Doesn't make you less fascinating though," was the addition. 

"We shouldn't talk about OUR looks while we are in the presence of sheer beauty," Irulan laughed and introduced Eowyn to Arwen. The blonde woman shook the hand of the elf vehemently and immediately delved into an inquiry about famous Rivendell while Arwen, openly shocked by such enthusiasm, tried to keep up with the unrelenting bombardment of questions. Irulan watched them in bemusement for a while. Then her gaze wandered to the awaiting five men and instantly she felt trapped. So many devious men in one place was simply not good!

"Eowyn, how did my family react to my absence?" she said, cutting into the lively conversation between the two women. 

"I can't describe it," Eowyn said with a grin. "Words would steal the glamour, Irulan! They almost died. If I had known that your disappearance would cause such shock, I would have made you leave a long time ago, simply for the pleasure of watching them!"

Irulan pursed her lips. "So I can not go back," was her almost inaudible murmur. 

"Go back?!" yelped Eowyn. "You are not going back anyway, are you?"

"Well...I suppose I'm not, now," Irulan sighed. She had had no intentions of going back after the step she had taken. But...the idea that the road of return was sealed for good was nevertheless a little...intimidating. No matter how foolish, it made her feel trapped. 

Eowyn looked at her for a long moment. "Irulan, stop embarrassing me!" she seethed finally.

"Embarrassing you?!"

"Yes," the other replied with a dry tone. "You are far too much of a coward! All the time we talked about adventures and traveling and the daring things we would do...and now you act like this fragile, nervous little...LADY!" she finished, waving her arms in frustration. 

Irulan's eyes widened at the remark. "No, I DON'T Never call me that again!"

"Then stop acting like one!" boomed Eowyn. Both stilled in confusion at the soft laughter of Arwen. 

"Oh please...do not mind me. I am fascinated by this encounter," the Princess said with a sly smile. 

"Nevermind," mumbled Irulan as her gaze wandered towards the men again. "Besides, if we do not join our 'protectors' over there soon enough, they will come personally and snatch us away. Legolas has that look again," she sighed in exasperation. 

Arwen cocked her head and stole a sidelong glance. "Yes he does, doesn't he? As a matter of fact, so does Lord Aragorn. And Lord Gimli. Even Masters Chemarit and Gandalf look a little...irritated?" She turned back to the company with a fabulous smile. "I wonder what makes them so pale?"

Eowyn exploded into laughter at that. "Well..." she began with a sly grin as she leisurely strode between the two women and snaked her hands into the arms of each, "…shall we find out, ladies?"

"Oh yes! Actually, Irulan and me were just talking about that. About how men think that they are so…-"

"Smart! I know!" laughed Eowyn.

Arwen nodded with delight. "And I bet some would even think themselves sly!"

"Sure they would! Some even have the guts to write books about love!" exclaimed Irulan, thinking that Gimli was, no doubt, responsible for the attitude of Legolas and therefore also responsible of the fact that she had been backed into a corner several times. 

"Ah! I always wanted to get back at Master Gimli for that," mused Arwen. 

"I love Master Gimli!" exclaimed Eowyn with mock shock. "And…" she added with a serpentine tone, "…that's EXACTLY why I shall assist you, dear Lady Arwen!" All three broke into soft laughter and resumed their advance on the eagerly awaiting party. 

When they reached the men, there was an unnatural silence to them. A tenseness was emanating from the group and Irulan had to use all her willpower not to stare back at Legolas, who was so fixed on her, that it made her almost feel naked.

"...and so I said 'No'," drawled Arwen with her soft voice. "He was simply not my type."

"You said no to HIM?!" yelped Eowyn, and Irulan marveled at her talent in acting, for none of the three women had any idea what the conversation was about but Arwen and Eowyn made it look like they had been talking for several minutes. "After all he did for you, Lady Arwen?"

"Aye," sighed Arwen, looking away. "I think I deserve better. I will not give my love to any man. He has to deserve it." After a moment's silence she added "As a matter of fact...that man yesterday - what was his name, dear Gandalf?"

The old wizard, who had been observing the three women with narrowed eyes, almost choked on his pipe at this sudden question. "What man?" he managed to say, after Chemarit patted him on his back. 

"The fabulous man from yesterday. Irulan's friend," Arwen said with a cool voice. Eowyn and Irulan glanced at each other. The Rivendell Princess, like everyone else (except for Chemarit, Irulan and Gandalf, of course) had no idea about Dernhelm's real identity. But she was still walking in the right direction. Irulan observed the blue fire settling into Legolas' gaze, even though he remained as still as a statue other than that. 

"Oh..." was Gandalf's alarmed reply. He looked like a man with a very bad itch and who was resisting it with all his strength, "I can not really recall who…-"

"You mean Dernhelm, I suppose?" cut in Eowyn with a grin. All heads turned to her and Irulan bit her lower lip to keep from laughing out loud. 

"Oh yes! Him! What a magnificent creature that was!" was Arwen's excited reply. "The moment I saw him, I thought 'THERE is a truly charismatic man'!"

The silence and tenseness that emanated from the men instantly doubled. Both Irulan and Eowyn grew slightly pink with the effort of keeping the laughter in. 

"Eh...he was...interesting I suppose," mumbled Gimli with obvious discomfort, for the sake of breaking the silence. He almost bit his own tongue when the remaining men turned to look down at him as if he had morphed into an orc that needed to be killed on the spot. "I mean...he had read my book!" the dwarf yelped, for the lack of any other explanation. 

"Oh I think he is far more than merely interesting," mused Eowyn. "Dernhelm is an amazing man. I for one, felt always jealous of his unrelenting interest in Irulan."

Legolas took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose as Irulan almost whimpered from the effort of suppressing the laughter. Chemarit and Gandalf threw the blonde woman warning looks, to which she said "What? You don't think so, Chemarit?"

It was Chemarit's turn to be caught off-guard and cough and this time the Wizard patted his back. "I...I think he had a very DEVIOUS side to him!" he spat finally, when he could speak again. 

"Ah...but that only makes him more attractive now, does it not?" was Eowyn's response, followed by a grin. 

"He was very...masculine," continued Arwen, looking up to the stars. Then her gaze wandered to the Ranger. "Very courageous too," she added with a smile. "Someone who is not afraid to fight for his woman."

"What would you know?!" Legolas intervened suddenly and everyone gulped at his tone. Realizing that he had said the words a little too spiteful, the Prince shifted on his feet and added with a calmer voice "Irulan tells me he is mad. And I have to admit that my observations only confirmed that."

Eowyn glanced at Irulan with twinkles in her eyes. "Why, my pick of words would be 'original', Prince Legolas." She locked eyes with the elf again. "You see...Dernhelm is a very unique man. He had many admirers, but he was soooooo into Irulan..." she sighed softly at that, "He refused all others!"

"He said that she is below him! That he deserved far better!" spat Legolas, unable to keep himself at bay. "Those are not the words of an honorable man!"

Eowyn laughed merrily at that. "Who said he was honorable?! All I said was that he was unique. And believe me..-" she winked boldly as her grin grew broader, "…in that, I am not mistaken."

"How...appalling...and...rude...and terrible a thing to say!" gasped Arwen in a very princess-like manner. An expression of satisfaction crept into the faces of the men. But was too short-lived, for she continued, her tone gaining a husky edge: "But...how immensely ATTRACTIVE!" The satisfaction on the faces melted into pure confusion. Pretending to notice their baffled state only now, she added matter-of-factly "Self-confident men will always remain overly attractive for women." Another glance at Aragorn followed and all the Ranger could do, was to inspect his boots in frustration. "Besides…there is something utterly amazing about a man who has enough strength to dominate a woman. Would you not say so, Irulan?"

Irulan, finally having managed to overcome the urge to explode with laughter and amazed at the show her two female friends were putting up here, spoke for the first time: "Oh, definitely! I must admit that I find most men these days too..."

"Feminine?" cut in Eowyn.

"Yes," said Irulan with mock surprise, "Precisely! Too kind! Too...gentle."

Legolas blinked in surprise and exchanged amazed looks with Gimli who dared to speak up. "Forgive me, Lady Irulan, but did you just..."

He was cut off by an angry Prince "You find THAT attractive?!"

"Well...yes," mused Irulan a moment later, locking eyes with Legolas. "Every woman does."

"But I thought..." he began and took a deep breath to calm himself, "I thought women preferred gentlemen." It sounded downright stupid, but at the moment his brain was simply not functioning, for the accursed feeling of jealousy was blooming in him again!

"Gentlemen!" huffed Arwen. "That word is a contradiction in itself! Men and gentleness! Please! No REAL man is really gentle." All present men's eyes widened and Gandalf began to cough again. "Your book says so, doesn't it, Master Gimli?" drawled the Princess, ignoring everyone else as she gave the dwarf a narrow look. "Is it not in the nature of men to be a little...wild?" said the princess, ignoring everyone else. She had so wished for the dwarf to be rendered speechless when it came to love! And she was taking immense pleasure from his loss of words now. 

"Men can be gentle!" Aragorn broke in suddenly and immediately afterwards shut his mouth, realizing that he had spoken the words without being asked. He returned to his inspection of his boots as Gimli hastily cut in to make up for his failure "Yes! I agree! Being gentle is essential. I never said they should be rude! Only...determined!"

"A gentle knight who goes to conquer a fortress!" laughed Arwen as a red color began to dominate Gimli's face. "Oh......oh," she laughed on, failing to speak and both Eowyn and Irulan joined her. "That is just...so...SAD!" she managed to say finally a long moment later.

"What exactly is so sad about that, Lady Arwen?" seethed Legolas, his blue gaze becoming frostier by the moment. 

"I couldn't tell!" whispered Arwen in delight once she found her voice again, "Otherwise I would be giving the secret of how a woman is conquered. And that, dear Prince, is not for me to tell." Her smile grew wider. "You have Master Gimli here," she said then with a lighter voice. "Conquering a woman's heart should present no problem to you." She glanced down at a bewildered dwarf again and smiled one of her gorgeous smiles. 

"Anyway," broke in Eowyn with bemusement. "I haven't seen Dernhelm today. Have you? Gandalf? Chemarit?" Both men only gave her an extremely sour look. 

"He will not return," Legolas said with a cold voice, his gaze returning to Irulan. 

"He won't?!" was Eowyn's shocked reply. "How so unlike him! Are you sure he is not planning something, dear Prince?"

Legolas blinked at that and turned to her, open confusion and slight alarm on his face. "Like what, Lady Eowyn?"

The blonde woman just shrugged. "Who knows? That man is full of surprises."

"And constantly the topic around here, it seems," the Prince said in frustration. 

"Irulan!" yelped Eowyn with exaggerated alarm, "Would you believe him gone? You certainly know Dernhelm far better than that!" 

"I must admit that it seems rather suspicious," Irulan replied, cocking her head with mock thoughtfulness. 

"He will not return," hissed Legolas. "Or I will personally…-"

"My, my! You surprise me, Prince Legolas!" broke in Arwen. "A man like you so...violent?! *I* thought you the perfect....GENTLEMAN," she finished and broke into soft laughter again while the other two women pursed their lips. 

"Legolas here can be perfectly violent, never doubt that!" said Gandalf, clearing his throat. "I have seen it happening, and so has that DERNHELM fellow." With that, he threw a warning look at Eowyn. 

Eowyn, though, was the perfect weapon - she cared for no one and nothing. And being a woman with no conscience, it did not bother her the slightest to back Gandalf and Chemarit into a corner, now. She was and would always remain a person full with unexpected surprises. She shrugged gracefully and clasping her hands behind her back, continued with a calm tone "His strength is not physical, for certain. What makes Dernhelm so unique is how bold and determined he can be. Especially when it comes to Irulan."

"Enough about Dernhelm!" shouted Legolas suddenly and everyone jumped slightly at the tone of his voice. The Ruler of Ithilien was speaking! "Irulan does not love him," he added with a growl, his eyes boring into hers. "She has chosen another. He will simply have to accept that."

A short silence followed at the intensity of his attitude. Finally Arwen said "So she has. We never questioned that. It was *I* who inquired about him, Prince Legolas."

He turned to her then and even someone as bold and daring as Arwen instantly reconsidered her decision to torture the Prince. "You," he began with a threatening tone and Arwen swallowed softly, "You...Lady Arwen," he said again, biting his tongue and trying not to utter anything that would cause him further trouble, no matter how strong the temptation, "…have a better taste than that," he finished, taking a deep breath to calm his heart. He wanted to strangle the woman but that would be highly unbecoming. "There are far more valuable men than...HIM around here." With that he glanced at Aragorn who, along with the rest of the present company, was anxiously observing the Prince's efforts to calm himself. 

"I never said the opposite," Arwen countered with a cautious tone, "I only said that I find him attractive. And to that I stand."

"Attraction is a passing thing," Legolas said dismissively, now far calmer. "There are more important things in life."

Arwen smiled again. "Once again, I never said the opposite, dear Prince." 

Legolas, growing impatient with her stubborn refusal to shut up, just gave her an extremely dangerous look. "I am not sure WHAT you implied, anymore," he hissed finally. 

"The futile ways of the heart," was Arwen's late response. "But who am I to know?" she added more playfully. "You men are all experts of love, are you not?" Her gaze wandered from Chemarit to Gandalf, then to Gimli and finally Legolas, then Aragorn. "What we women think is of no importance."

"Exactly," sighed Eowyn. "What would we women know anyway?"

"What Irulan thinks matters the world to me," Legolas said with a careful tone. 

"Then you must agree that Dernhelm IS immensely attractive?"

Legolas turned his blue orbs to Irulan. "Is THAT what you think?" was the tense question. 

"Well..." she began, looking from the women to the men and back. "I don't understand why that is a big deal."

"So you DO agree?" he said with soft disbelief. 

"Come on, Legolas. I mean...all men here would agree that Lady Arwen is immensely attractive. It is just a honest and very understandable opinion."

He took a step towards her. "You were attracted to him or not?"

He would not dare to do something drastic, would he? As Prince of Ithilien, here amongst his guests and his friends, he would not. And yet...that look in his eyes was just downright dangerous. Her sudden fear gave in to anger. 'I am not a puppet!' she thought. "Yes I was!" was her final statement. She pushed up her chin and looked straight into Legolas' shocked expression. 

"I thought you were friends, Irulan," he seethed a long moment later. 

"We were," Irulan said smoothly. A part of her mind realized that if she kept on talking about the matter, she would end up believing in the story, herself! "And I had no feelings for him, true. But...he was attractive, damn it!"

"He was indeed!" exclaimed Eowyn with amusement.

"Because he pushed you around?" thundered Legolas suddenly and everyone instantly decided that it was high time to eat. Under Irulan's disbelieving look they hastily dispersed and glided over to the tables, leaving her alone with a fuming elf. 'So much for friendship!' she thought in fury as Arwen and Eowyn glanced back at her over their shoulders while they hastily strode away, already chatting about other matters. "Because he treated you as his inferior?!" he shouted again and she swiftly turned back to him. "Or perhaps because he forced you to do things?!"

"Enough, Legolas!" she said with mock tiredness. Inside, she was afraid like a little child, but she refused to show it. "He was a bit mad, yes. And at times rude. But he had a good heart."

"Now you even defend him!" he said in shock and approached her further as Irulan tried to step back without being too obvious in her fear. 

"He was a friend. And...and he saved me!" she added hastily, remembering what Dernhelm had said about the inn. 

Legolas took a deep breath. "I see," he seethed in a dangerous manner as Irulan watched him with unease. "This man will remain as a shadow on us, no matter what!"

"He is a part of my past, Legolas. Erasing him would erase a part of me." He looked at her for a long moment. So long that Irulan finally huffed and continued: "I do not love him. I never did. It is you I love, you know that. Your reaction is groundless and childish, Legolas."

He pursed his lips and looked away. It was true. There was nothing wrong with finding someone attractive. It meant nothing. His reaction was indeed foolish. But it was purely emotional and emotions simply did not obey the rules of the mind. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I suppose you are right," he said finally with a low voice. He stepped closer and enfolded her hands in his, looking down at their grasp with utmost concentration.

It was Irulan who broke the long silence that set in. "I know what it is."

Legolas looked up in surprise. "What what is?"

"The source of confusion and distress between us," she said with a lighter voice. 

"So do I!" he said with frustration. "It is this...slow pace! We should get rid of it altogether!"

"I think you are mistaken again, dear elf," she said then, retrieving her hands and folding them over her chest. "I think," she began and stepped back, "we should not do anything from now on."

The Prince blinked in surprise. "What does that mean?"

"It means no touching. No kissing. No...nothing, Legolas!"

His eyes widened with shock and alarm. "What?! Why?"

Irulan waved her arms in mock frustration. "Because...it is too much!"

"But you said I could touch you!" he whispered, swallowing hard. 

"And look what it did! I see now that the middle road is none for us, Legolas. It is either all or nothing. And well...the slower pace, naturally, is...nothing!" she finished with a fantastic smile. 

"I can not do that," he whispered with terror. "Do not ask if of me." For a tiny moment Irulan felt sorry at the expression of deep disappointment on his face. But only for a tiny moment. 

"Sure you can, Legolas," she soothed, cocking her head. "Just assume that...we are still in the forest. That we just met."

"I am cursing myself for not kissing you back then! I will not repeat my mistakes!"

"So you will do exactly what?" Irulan said, crossing her arms on her chest. 

"I," he began, trying to find the words and failing, "I...I promise that I will be more careful. Promise! But...please DO let me touch you, Irulan," he whispered finally. 

Irulan sighed with mock frustration. She looked at him for another long moment as he remained frozen, deadly afraid of her judgment. Finally she said "Fine. But I insist on the slow pace, Legolas!" she added hastily as obvious relief washed over his features. "And I mean *slow*!" The elf nodded silently and gently took her hand again. She gazed at him, the feeling of guilt blooming once again in her. But then...she was tired at being manipulated by men. She would tame Legolas, that much was certain! No more manipulation around here! The torture was by far not over yet! "So...what do we do now?" she sighed, shifting her concentration from him to the crowd in the garden. 

Legolas brought up her hand for a kiss, ignoring the warning look Irulan gave him. "I have the fountains to show you yet," he said softly, trying to pick out every word he was saying with utmost care. These women were incredibly dangerous. And cunning. And cruel. 

"Very well," was her gentle reply, accompanied with a smile. 

Upon that smile, he dared the question he had been dying to ask: "What did Lady Arwen say?" 

Irulan gave him a sharp glance. "It is private, Legolas," she said coldly. 

"Yes, of course," he said hastily. "I only wanted to know if...I mean...she did not hurt you in any way, did she?"

"No, she did not," Irulan said flatly and stared back in silence. 

"Because if she has-" Legolas tried again, but Irulan just cut him off. 

"No, Legolas."

"Very well," he whispered in frustration. "I was worried."

"You worry too much," was the frosty answer. 

He took a deep breath of defeat, then smiled down at her, trying to look not too devastated. "Let us go to the fountains, then."

Irulan smiled, too, and put her hand in his arm. This whole taming thing was actually fun. As long as it was her who was doing the taming, that is. 

"So you like dominant men, is that so, my love?" Legolas said softly, strolling towards the fountains and giving Lady Arwen one last nasty look before he did so. 

Irulan, instantly realizing that she might have made a LITTLE mistake by saying that, swallowed softly. "No…I mean yes, but…" She tried to ignore the penetrating gaze Legolas was giving her. "It is a delicate balance, no doubt," she finished with haste. 

The Prince frowned and looked ahead as Irulan was overcome by a feeling of anxiety. After all, she was dealing with the Prince here. A man who had proved to her over and over again that he was far bolder and more daring than herself. That he would take any torture she would condemn him to, out of sheer love. But…only to a certain limit. 'Let us just be extra careful not to cross that limit,' she thought to herself. 

"But I love you the way you are, Legolas," was her late comment. To her dislike, he gave her a warm smile, but did not reply. He turned back his gaze ahead and didn't mention the subject again.

***


	26. A Sign from the Valar

For everyone who has asked for more fluff.

Sometimes I think that the confusion and contradiction and salvation of two people must be pure fluff and a grand joke to God.

The rest of the night went on with the tour of the palace which Legolas seemed to have prepared with utmost care and thought. For a while Irulan feared that he would decide to draw out his wild side……..to be 'dominant' so to say, but he remained gentle and reserved. And true to his word. He refrained from any further intimacy than an innocent embrace or touch. This gave Irulan the feeling that she was finally on the ruling side. And it felt good to be so. 

From time to time she felt a little sorry about her attitude towards the Prince. After all, manipulating or not, Legolas had always remained thoughtful, gentle and kind to her. His affection for her had never faltered or diminished. So it was rather………ungrateful to be so harsh now. 

But then…….the elf had an unbelievably determined and stubborn side to him. Irulan feared that if she relented now, he would NEVER let her have the upper hand again. So she was pushed into further and further exploration of her rights. And Legolas, surprisingly, gave in further and further. Other than the little tenseness of Irulan's new "rules", they had a splendid time talking. They exchanged opinions on an amazing diversity of subjects, from politics to personal dreams; from history to secret fears. 

Very late at night, when she was beyond tired, they arrived at the corridor that she recognized to be the corridor leading to his own room, by the sight of his personal guards. 

"Where will I stay?" Irulan said finally, not sure how else to put it. Fortunate for her, being the gentlemen, Legolas understood her meaning and decided not to ask her anything else. 

"Your room is prepared for you," he said, trying to sound as matter-of-factly as possible. 

"I could stay with the other guests," Irulan said then, pursing her lips, "You did not have to-"

"Of course I did. I would not have you stay in any room. Your room will be next to mine."

They arrived at Legolas' chambers in silence and the Prince ordered his guards not to let anyone in. When they entered, Irulan recognized the bed she had woken up that morning in, and she looked away hastily, not knowing what to do with herself. Legolas gently encircled her waist and led her through the bathroom she had used that morning to the room that lay beyond it and which she had taken a glimpse of, before. She looked only long enough to notice the elaborate furnishing of it and then resumed the inspection of her fingers. 

"If you need anything, I am only a call away, Irulan."

Irulan nodded and after a moment's hesitation Legolas leaned down to kiss her gently on the cheek. "I will see you in the morning, then." She nodded again, in silence. But the elf did not move away, yet. "Do you think that you will be comfortable here?"

She smiled to that and took another look around. "Of course, Legolas. You have seen where I used to live."

He swallowed softly at that. "Aye," he said with a low voice. "But…….that time is behind you now. I want you to forget it completely."

"It IS my past. I rather keep it," she said with a sigh. "Besides……I have nothing else," she added. Then instantly regretted it. "I-I do not want you to think that I am not grateful, Legolas. I am EXTREMELY grateful. I just…….."

"You need time, I know," he cut in gently and watched her bite her lower lip. He raised his hand and glided his fingers over it, then. "It is only understandable, Irulan. I have handled you roughly while I should be handling you as the most precious and fragile……person."

"Roughly?! Not at all!"

Legolas held up her hand to silence her. "No, I know it is true. You deserve the finest attention. I was……….carried away."

Irulan shook her head. "You did nothing that I did not want you to, Legolas," she said softly. "I wish I could be as certain as to what I want and what I do not, as you are. The problem is me. I am always so……confused!" she finished with exasperation. 

"What is it that makes your decisions so hard?" he said then, slightly shifting on his feet, gazing down at her with curiosity. 

She thought for a moment. "I suppose I want too much."

"Pray explain."

"I want happiness for everyone. And that, it seems, is not possible."

Legolas sighed softly and looked up, around the room. "In all my years of ruling, I have come to realize one thing: happiness for everyone is only possible if everyone agrees to be less happy. If everyone agrees to sacrifice some of their own pleasure for the sake of a common joy." He looked down at her again as his blue eyes bore into hers. "I do not know if our………our situation demands the same pre-condition. But……..on my behalf…….I am ready to oblige it. I will take whatever you feel fitting to give. I shall have you any way you are willing to give yourself – as a friend. A lover. A………a……wife."

He softly squeezed her hand then, and left without turning around. Irulan remained standing as he closed her chamber door behind him and she heard him closing the second door to his room as well. Only then did she dare to exhale. 

She walked around the softly lighted room then, inspecting the furniture, the objects and items around, the flowers arranged in vases. Finally, feeling tired, she changed into her nightshift, spread on her bed, and settled underneath the covers. She blew the candles out and remained in the dark. Sleep should have come very early under normal circumstances. She felt beyond tired. But……….for some odd reason, it evaded her. 

She remained lying in the dark, listening to her own soft breathing, unable to divert her thoughts from a feeling of…….lack. She was missing something. Something was missing from her. And yet……..she did not know what it was. She turned from left to right. From right to left. Was it her room? No way! Was it the feeling of belonging somewhere? Could she actually be missing………dread? As stupid and silly as it was, perhaps she was restless because she had never been so free before and she confused that feeling with incompleteness. 

And then………..many many minutes later, as she was tired with the inner battle, she suddenly understood what it was. She actually, truly and most certainly missed……..Legolas! Irulan bolted and sat upright, clutching at her cover. She stood like that for a long time, feeling overly…….panicked and yet……excited. 'Now wait a moment,' she thought and tried to find the REAL reason for her discomfort. But she failed. Over and over and over again. Her heart knew with certainty that it was Legolas that she was missing. That she was missing his embrace. His kiss. His warmth. She was simply missing this morning.

Irulan hastily ducked underneath the covers and remained as still as she could. Her heart was beating like a battle drum, her face and her body were burning. Her fingers felt icy cold. She decided to think of other things. Such as……Her mind, it seems, was not on her side tonight. For it insisted on remembering exactly what she meant to forget. "Please, no!" she moaned. "This can NOT be real!" But it was real. VERY real.

Fifteen minutes passed. Half an hour. An hour. Irulan observed in horror how all her arguments slowly but very certainly melted away. By the end of thirty minutes, she had accepted the fact that she wanted Legolas. She simply did. 'And who in her right mind wouldn't?' she told herself, feeling a little better at that. Minute forty-seven: Sharing an intimacy that had been shared before, could not be considered as bad as sharing it for the first time. Minute fifty-eight: When two people loved each other, love on a physical level was the most natural thing on earth. One hour and thirteen minutes: Sharing such an intimacy with the Prince of Ithilien –especially during such a sensitive phase, when they should stay away from each other to make a more truthful decision- was a VERY bad idea. One hour and twenty-two minutes: Perhaps it would not be THAT encouraging a thing to do, after all. One hour and twenty-three minutes: No. It was WRONG, period. One hour and thirty minutes: Considering the fact that Legolas was indeed planning to leave the throne in case of her refusal, she was forced to accept sooner or later anyway. Besides, let's face it – it was not such a bad thing. Oh no……not at all. Two hours and seventeen minutes later: Damned be everything – she wanted him. She loved him. She treasured him. She should be allowed to put that into action. She should be allowed to show that. She had treated him heartless enough. After all he had done for her, she had treated him beyond horrible! He had done nothing wrong and she had done nothing, NOTHING right!

Irulan almost fell out of the bed, still clutching at the bed cover. With her eyes accustomed to the darkness, she easily found the door and not giving herself time to rethink her decision, hastily bolted into the bathroom. And ran into an object that tilted and fell, but she caught it before it hit the floor. She continued walking, but the cover she was holding on to got stuck in something and to her utter demise Irulan was instantly pulled backward and then slipped on the marble tiles, and a moment later she fell into the warm water, covered with rose petals. 

She emerged from it, ready to shout out, only to discover that the cover was entwined around her. Suddenly the panic of drowning here in the dark with the bed sheet wrapped around her hit her brain. She tried to remain calm, trying to find the end of the sheet, only to discover that it was wound around and underneath her and that her struggles were only making it tighter. 'Sweet Valar, I am going to die!' was all she could think. Her breath left her, and as the sheet glued itself to her, it refused to come back. And with the loss of breath, any chance she had of screaming for help vanished as well. 

Irulan fought and struggled in panic, the certainty of death engulfing her by the moment, as the sheet became like iron shackles to her, unrelenting in its grip. The world became her own single struggle for survival, as everything vanished from her mind. Her muscles tensed, relaxed, tensed, and finally refused to obey at all. Irulan's knees gave in as she felt herself sinking, but the feeling oddly more resembling to rising. She felt the water engulfing her as all feeling left her. "And this is how it ends," Irulan thought with puzzlement and surprise, and finally she let go. "What a waste," was all she could think then, in that very last moment, when images of a strange life passed before her eyes. 

She remembered the oddest things. The warm and slightly wet touch of her father's hand that held hers. The way the sun covered half his face so brightly, that she could not see it. The sight of fireflies at night in the forest when she was lost one day in the swamps. Or how the cake she had baked with too much flour had tasted. She remembered being sick as a strange cold fire had licked her body for days. And how the flowers she had brought for her father's funeral had been a little dull and old and odorless. The strangest of all, though, was that amongst all those memories, there was also the memory of Legolas. Although there was no recollection of any other. Fragments of her…….and then suddenly Legolas. And not a certain memory, but a…….feeling that she recognized to be him. A strange tingling and yet soothing warmness. He felt like sleep. Exactly like a slumber that had the power to push everything in the background. A slumber that, no matter how unreal visitors of dreams it brought with it, still managed to be victorious as all grief, all pain, all indecisiveness, all agony, all terror gave in to it. So fleeting a thing…….taking away all that. And essential as air itself to any living being.

That is exactly when she felt hard and cold floor on her back and when the cover was torn from her vision and a face appeared before her eyes. A face she recognized instantly, though it looked slightly distorted with her fairly dark vision. She blinked once, twice and realized that the odd sound coming to her ears was her own breathing and that the burning pain that accompanied it was the burning in her lungs. "Legolas," she managed to wheeze to her utter surprise. He did not answer and instead, turned her over and Irulan felt a sharp push in her back as her mouth involuntarily opened, and an unexpected amount of water came out of it. Irulan just hoped that the rose petals swimming in it were already on the floor when she threw up the water. 

She was roughly turned on her back again, coughing, and the elf's face appeared before her again with a simultaneous touch on the vein in her neck. "Can you hear me?" he said then, not really looking at her but inspecting her body for injuries. Irulan nodded and gaining confidence from the fact that her muscles seemed to obey her, she tried to speak: "I-I can," she said, and her voice was surprisingly intact. 

"Tell me where it hurts," he said softly, touching her cheek. 

She waited a moment to understand. Then said "Nowhere. I…..I think I am fine."

"You are?" he said with a cold voice suddenly and she blinked to look up at him, though it was hard to see his face in the dark. "Yes……I think I am," she said slowly. 

"What……..in………the name of Valar…….." he seethed between clenched teeth, "………WERE YOU DOING IRULAN??!!" he shouted suddenly and it was the first time he had ever raised his voice this much in her presence. Though she was dazed extensively, she jumped up at his tone and found herself sitting face to face with him. Unable to come up with an answer, Irulan just looked at him, agape. "Are you INSANE?!" he shouted then. "You almost DIED!" She swallowed and clutched at the front of his shirt. 

"I……..I was trying to…….."

He grabbed her chin, snatching her head up. "Trying to do WHAT?" 

"To……to get to your room," she sniffed and to her utter horror, began to cry for no reason at all. 

"In the DARK, Irulan?! With your sheet?! At this HOUR? What were you THINKING?!"

Irulan just put her head on his chest, unable to stop crying and feeling scared out of her wits. "Please stop yelling, Legolas," she managed with a low voice. 

Legolas took a deep breath and embraced her strong enough to hurt her bones. "I swear you will be the end of me!" he hissed. "You will be the very end of me!" he hissed again and embraced her even stronger, which made Irulan wince with pain, but in his bewilderment, Legolas did not hear it. He stroked her back and gently rocked her, in attempt to calm down himself more than her, thinking that being so dependent on the well-being of another was indeed a terrible thing. And yet, it made him feel connected. It gave him an objective other than caring for himself and his own well-being alone. Though the elf was already caring for millions through his reign, those millions had no name and no face for him. They were a part of his duty, to which he was born and which, in his heart, he truly performed with sincere joy. But they were not as real as Irulan was at the moment. Not so solid that he could embrace them and try to ease their pain. 

Some people are not made to be so. Some people are simply not endowed with the gift or talent to care for anyone else. They stride to live in a universe that is centered around them – a place where everyone else exists for the sole function of being the background performers in a theater play. Some people, though, have it in them to care for others, to the point when it becomes a necessity beyond any other. It is a natural thing for them and they can not imagine it to be otherwise. As a matter of fact, they thrive in such circumstances, pitying those who would live with no worry in their hearts for another. And Legolas was undoubtly one of those. The idea that he would look after Irulan, protect her, nourish her and guide her through life only made him happy beyond words. At her accomplishments, he would feel fulfillment himself. At her happiness, he would feel joy. At her loss, he would feel failure. 

There were those who thought that a Prince and a man like that would choose a stronger woman. Someone who needed no other. But again, strength is something that may show itself in very strange ways, and to Legolas, Irulan was someone with amazing strength. She had resisted him, had she not? She had resisted the temptation of the offers he had made from the very beginning. She had refused any help on his behalf in any matter, except when he had offered it as a gift. She had and was even now resisting the crown of Ithilien and everything she was observing around her, while anyone else in his kingdom -and especially anyone who had lived such a deprived life- would have done anything to have it, anything to be allowed to spend the rest of their lives in such luxury – forget about the fact that they would rule the most powerful kingdom in Middle Earth with the most astonishing Prince by their side. Oh no…...there was nothing weak about Irulan. On the contrary, she was strong in the RIGHT way. The right way for a woman. For a wife. For a queen. 

He broke out of his daze when he heard her mumble against his shoulder and quickly pulled back to look at her. "What is it? Are you well, Irulan?"

Irulan looked up at him. She was completely wet. Her hair was hanging in a dark tangled web down her shoulders. Her white, thin nightshift was clinging to her body. And she was shivering. "I am, Legolas," she said slowly, wiping the remnant of tears from her eyes and sitting up a little further. 

He gently caressed her cheek, then. "What happened?" 

Irulan rolled her eyes. "As always, the most stupid thing! I feel so foolish!"

Legolas sighed tiredly and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. "I fail to imagine what sort of thing it was that has put you under these circumstances, Irulan," he said a moment later, wiping her dark locks from her face. 

"Oh don't ask!" she moaned and leaned on his chest again. "Good thing you woke up," she mumbled as he embraced her again. 

Legolas laughed softly at that. "I am certain that I would have woken up to that tumult. But I was not asleep, Irulan." With that, he picked her up and walked into his room in the total darkness, as comfortable as if it were bright day. He put her to sit on the armchair and disappeared again, showing up with several towels. 

"Here, let us dry you before you catch a disease," he said gently and gave her a towel, unfolding another and wiping her arms with it. 

Irulan just pressed the fabric to her face and remained like that for a moment. "Why were you not asleep?" she said then, taking it off. 

Legolas halted for a moment, then continued his task in silence. "I could not sleep," he said after a short silence. 

"Neither could I," sighed Irulan and tried to gather her hair to squeeze it. 

"You were awake all this time?" he said, surprised. "It is quite late. And you were tired. Was the bed uncomfortable?"

Irulan swallowed softly and tried to suppress the shivering, to no success. She looked down at her fingers and unconsciously began to wipe them on the soft towel. After making such a fool of herself she was afraid to admit her discovery. What if she just made a bigger fool of herself? "It…..it was," she said softly, not looking up.

"So was mine," Legolas said, more to himself than to her. He halted then, not sure how to continue and whether a confession would just make things worse. Now that she had asked him to, he should keep his distance, should he not? Anything else would be unthinkable. It would be a terrible thing to do. And yet……..perhaps it was not really pushing. It was more like a confession of weakness. And he had never been afraid of that when it came to his weakness concerning her. "I missed you terribly," he whispered then, instantly alarmed at his words but unable to look up. He thought about asking her to remain with him and to promise in return that he would not attempt to go any further than an embrace. But he knew with desperate certainty that there was no way he would be able to keep true to his promise. It would be foolish to think oneself so strong. He bit down the words and resumed to dry her lower leg. 

"I missed you too," she said slowly and Legolas could not help himself to look up, certain that she meant something completely different. Irulan bit her lower lip and looked away, detangling her hair. When he did not move or speak, she sighed softly. "So I decided to come to your room. But………the Valar decided that it was the perfect opportunity to remind me of what a fool I am, Legolas!" she said with exasperation, pulling at her hair with anger. "I can not BELIEVE I fell into the pool! And not only that – I almost drowned! Imagine what that would have looked like in the morning! Me floating amongst rose petals with that stupid bed sheet around-"

His fingers on her lips stilled her and she looked up to watch him slowly pulling himself up to his knees and remaining on face level with her. "You were coming to…….me?" he whispered and Irulan could have sworn that even under this lack of light she could see the perfect blue of his gaze. 

She swallowed softly and turned her head, but Legolas held her chin and turned it back. "I was!" she said finally. It would have probably sounded far better if she had made it as far as his room, in the first place. Falling into the pool had, no doubt, taken off a large chunk of the romanticism. Not only that, but it had also, without doubt, taken off a large part of her arguments in favor of her attempt. "I think it was a mistake," she said then, with a low voice. 

The elf, who had been observing her with silent astonishment, woke up to that. "What was?" he said softly, his fingers wandering to her hair and feeling the wetness of it. 

"You," she said with a tired sigh. Legolas froze in mid-action. Many silent moments passed as Irulan swallowed and shivered in frustration. "From the first day, you were a mistake, Legolas," she said then and he felt a solid slap on the face, even though she had not moved at all. His mind knew that such a thing had not happened, but it also failed to admit that the pain was not real. He swallowed softly and unable to speak, just remained staring at her. 

"You have this……..this horrible effect on me," Irulan said then, looking towards the window that showed the grey-blue clouds in the darkness of the sky. "Everything you do to me becomes so………essential to me. I dare not – no, I CAN not give it up afterwards!" She sighed again and turned to regard him as he stood inches away from her, his face shrouded in alarm that he was very obviously trying to keep hidden. "The first day I met you, you spoke to me and right afterwards, I missed speaking to you. Though I had never spoken to you before and it was perfectly fine, after that moment, it was not fine at all! And then you met me and I missed meeting you. I missed it so much that it became this……..this constant ache in me. And then……" she sighed and looked away again. "……..and then it just became worse and worse. You said I am intact. That is not true, Legolas. Perhaps I used to be intact. But I am so………..weak now!" she hissed in anger. "I feel so………in need. And the idea that this-…" she waved her arm to include the room and him at that- "might end one day, is just……….terrifying me!"

"I mean, I could not sleep, Legolas! Me, who had always slept alone to this day, who had no concerns for such things, simply could not sleep because you were not there! It felt wrong, although I know that it was not. And I tried to convince myself that it was not wrong. But the bed felt cold and hard. And the sheets felt coarse. The walls were just too close to each other and the ceiling was not high enough and the window would not allow any air in!"

Legolas sat listening to her, the pain turning into something that was, in its intensity perhaps even more painful. He watched her in amazement as she spoke everything that he had felt in his own heart for the longest time. Perhaps he would have chosen different words. And he most certainly would not look at it with such bitter anger. But, underneath it all, it was the same thing. True, Irulan had told him that she loved him. But it had felt nowhere nearly this devastating and relieving. For this meant that she felt the need for him as much as he needed her. That, after all his struggles, he had managed to plant the smallest seed of need in her. That his efforts were getting somewhere. That, as unrelenting and unaffected she seemed from the outside, his attempts to make the palace and himself and the life he was offering tempting to her, were not completely in vain, after all. And most importantly, that, under another string of merciless attacks on his behalf, she might actually give in completely!

Had he not been lying here in his bed, thinking that it felt wrong to act so passive, so……submissive when he was the Ruler of Ithilien? 'A king indeed!' he had hissed with anger. 'What good can my reign to Ithilien bring when I do not have the heart to take matters in my own hands? I, who never hesitated in a single battle, nor in a single official meeting, am certainly no more fit to be the ruler of this land, for I can NOT rule!' He had raised his fist to bang it on the wall, then had stopped himself instantly from doing so. And to his own dismay, he had remembered over and over again how all the women had spoken of Dernhelm's so called "masculinity" and "dominance" and "courage" so fondly! So furious had the elf felt about the recollection, that several times he had jumped to his feet and silently walked around the dark room until his spirit dampened. 

He had sat in his bed, as sleep evaded him, looking at the spot Irulan had been lying on, that very morning. "She is right there, one room away, and I can not walk over. I simply can NOT! I am a coward! Very much like the coward I was that night after the visit to the town – the night I should have kissed her and did not. Out of pure cowardice. AGAIN!" 

The torture had continued for hours, when he finally had said "Enough!" to stop the chaos in his mind. "Enough! Mercy"!" he had whispered in frustration. "A single sign from the Valar, and I shall risk it all. A single, small sign that she wants me as much as I want her, and I shall stop this craziness. I shall be king again. And this time, a real one!"

And right at that moment, he had heard her falling into the pool, although at that very moment he did not know that this was the reason for the sudden sound in the silent room. And if that, along with her confession was not a sign…….then nothing was. She had come to him. Now she would never walk away again.  

Legolas had missed the last part of her speech, and Irulan shook him gently on the shoulder, saying "Legolas? Are you……..alright?"

"I am," he whispered then and gave her a deep kiss. 

Irulan pushed herself back a little to break it, the intensity of the kiss instantly shaking her argument. "Did you hear what I said?" she said, digging herself further into the armchair while this had no effect on the elf who leaned in and trapped her thus efficiently. 

"Yes. You were saying that you were coming to me," he said slowly and kissed her again. 

"I meant the part-…" she began once she managed to break free again.

"And I was saying that we should dry you," he broke her off with a whisper, his gaze locked to hers while his fingers wandered to the strips of her nightgown, slowly pushing them down her arms, "before you catch some disease."

Irulan remained frozen. Not only with the surprise, but also with the realization that she did not want to move anyway. She looked into his eyes as he stared back, not breaking the silent communication while his fingers very efficiently stripped her from the wet nightshift in agonizing slowness. "And I was thinking," he said then, pulling her to her feet to shed the remainder of the garment, "that I can not allow you to remain alone, as from tonight." 

He kissed her again and Irulan lost all care about the world. Thankfully her mind was working solo at the moment and continued the speech on her behalf: "But what about the things I just said?"

Legolas sighed and picked her up, walking towards his bed. "I need you MORE, Irulan. I want you far more. I am more terrified, more horrified, more devastated. I ache more, I miss much more." She was gently put in between the covers and a moment later, felt him gliding in after her and the warmth of his naked skin felt a deep contrast to the coolness of hers. "I think I am not the person to offer solution on the matter." He pulled her towards himself and kissed her yet again as Irulan felt the flame of his existence engulfing her and warming her up. Yes, this was right. This was what was supposed to be. The ache was gone. The frustration was gone. The terror was gone. Irulan wrapped her arms around his neck and relaxed in his embrace. 

"You will marry me," he whispered then, kissing her shoulder. 

"I……..I," she stammered, thinking that she should not speak in this state for she could be saying things that she might regret later on. 

"You will," he said then, with a voice that was utterly gentle and yet steely in its determination. "No more thinking. No more discussions. *I* shall decide. *I* shall set the pace," he said and pressed down on her, kissing her again. 

"W-what?"

"You will trust me, Irulan," he said with a low voice, his hands igniting a fire of terrible heat all around her body, "and let go. I will think for the both of us and that will be the end of all confusion and indecision. Enough with the frustrating wait. I shall walk and you shall walk with me. If not, then I will have to carry you through it. But you are coming, and that is final." If this was the only way to bend Irulan –and it seemed very much so- so be it. Perhaps it had been a mistake to give her too much time and too many options. Perhaps it had just served to confuse her further. That would change from now on. 

"But-…."

"I don't care if it makes me selfish. Or brutal. Or unpleasant. I don't care if that means I am not civilized or of finer nature. I don't care for the thoughts of others."

She slightly sat up, his weight still pressing down on her and his lips on her throat. "What about what I think?"

"Oh you will come to like it," he said slyly and added "I promise," with a whisper. 

"I can not believe you!" was all she could come up with, a very distant part in her protesting but the rest and major part of her not giving a damn at the moment. 

"I shall never take advantage of my rights over you. I shall never treat you in any way that will make you regret your decisions. You will have everything you want. Anything. But I will have YOU, Irulan."

"Your rights over – Legolas! What if I say no?" she said, knowing that she was playing a losing game and that he had her heart and her mind and her body already. 

"You can say no all you want. It won't make a difference, my love."

She weakly fought to release herself, but it ended instantly as Legolas pulled himself completely over her, pinning her down effectively as that cursed wave of passion rose in the horizon again. "Why not say 'yes', then?" he said with a sinister smile and Irulan's last sentiment of astonishment was washed clean for good with the kiss that followed it. 

**********

Irulan woke up to a kiss on her cheek. She frowned and shifted slightly under the covers. But return to sleep evaded her as the kiss repeated itself. She slowly opened her eyes and then instantly closed them with the sharp whiteness of the light. "I am not awake," she mumbled and turned her back. 

"Sure you are," laughed Legolas softly and embraced her from the back, inhaling the damp mass of her hair. 

"The chickens!" she said suddenly and sat upright. 

He sat up with her. "Pardon me?"

"Oh," Irulan said a moment later, "n-nothing. I thought it was time to feed…….." she turned to look at his amused smile. "I am not awake!"

With that she delved underneath the covers, pulling it over her head, but everything disappeared a moment later with a swift pull. Irulan, left in the open, opened her eyes in terror and found the pillow to cover herself up. "Not again!" she protested to his soft laughter. "Legolas! You need to stop doing that!"

"Nay, Irulan. I love the color you offer in return."

She sat up, embracing the pillow and giving him a very nasty look over it. He smirked in amusement and dropping the sheets away, crouched towards her on the bed. "Stay away!" she said, inching back. 

"Or else?" he whispered suggestively. 

Irulan jumped off the bed and walked away from it without turning her back to him. "You are too much of a child! What do I have to do to get some good morning sleep in this place?!"

"Just assume that you still have chickens to feed, Irulan," the elf said with all innocence, stepping away from the bed, as well. She noticed suddenly that his hair was fairly wet and a towel was wrapped below his abdomen. He must have taken a bath already. 'What time do these creatures wake up, anyway?!' she thought with irritation, then.

"Oh, curse it all!" she yelped and massaged her face, holding to the pillow with the other one. "Legolas, I dare you to snatch this pillow away from me!" she said as dangerously as she could, though it was not much, to be honest.

"I accept that dare, Irulan," he said suggestively and took another step.

"Legolas, for the very last time, STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

"Ah, but that is one request I simply can not fulfill, my lady," he said slyly and kept his advance. Irulan watched the ripples of his tense muscles as he moved. He truly was perfect in any and every way. She swallowed softly and moved back, to her utter demise blushing even further. 

"Every morning the same damn thing! Enough already!" She said with exasperation. And then added with afterthought "And I am no lady!"

He stopped before her, having backed her into a corner and narrowed his eyes, looking over her shoulder for a moment. "I think you are right, Irulan," he said slowly and surprised her. "Because, as of tomorrow that title will not be suffice to describe you. I will be chasing a queen!" Before her mouth could fall open to that, the pillow was gone, flying towards the other corner of the room and Legolas was picking her up. 

"WHAT?!" And then she remembered remnants of last night and the desire for struggle forgotten, remained dumfounded as the elf carried her towards the bathroom and shedding his own towel with a fluid move, began to descend into the warm water. He released her afterwards and Irulan swiftly stepped away to place her back against the walls of the oval pool, also effectively hiding herself underneath the rose petal covered water. "Now listen, Legolas," she began slowly and he cocked his head, remaining on his spot with a very irritating smile on his lips. 

"You can not do this. We have to......I mean I have to think. I need to think about this."

"You, Irulan," he said and glided towards her, giving her no route to escape and placing his arms on either side of her head, gazing down on her, "need to bathe, get dressed and meet me for breakfast. We have a lot to do. After all," he added then, playing with her hair that was afloat around her in a dark mass, "this will be our last day as lovers. I think it should be memorable."

"Are you out of your mind?!" she yelped despite herself, but the elf did not even flinch at that. 

"Alas, I might as well be. I am so happy, it is simply not natural."

"Legolas, we simply can not-..."

"I will go now and arrange everything. Your gown for the wedding. And mine. And all the official things that need to be done. And the preparations and so on so forth. I fear that it will be quite hasty. Do you think we should repeat the ceremony in a more elaborate fashion later on?"

Her reply was a horrified look. "I thought so, too," he said in a cool tone, resuming his play with her hair, "such elaborate ceremonies are not to my liking. But now I have come to think that it would be injustice to someone of your worth," he finished with a sigh.

"I will not marry you!" she said then in horror. "And certainly not tomorrow!"

"Sure you will," he said with a whisper and softly kissed her cheek. "Do not be afraid, Irulan. I know it is an important decision, but I will make certain that you will never regret it. And once it is behind you, you can relax and delve into the joy of it. So the sooner, the better."

"Nonsense!" she said, trying to pry his arms so that she can glide away, but her efforts had no effect on him. "Legolas," she said then, with a tired gulp, "please.......you can not force me into this." 

He remained silent, his hand traveling down her arm and back. "It is for the best. Trust me, Irulan. I would never do anything that would serve only my wishes and harm you in the slightest. Do you think me that selfish?"

"But I am not ready!"

"Do you think that you will ever be?" he said, forcing her to look up into his gaze. She opened her mouth but he cut her off. "The more time passes, the more indecisive you will become. Then others will trouble your mind - that is, if you have not have troubled it yourself sufficiently by then. Then all the minor, unimportant details will turn into grand problems. Then you will doubt yourself. Or me. Or the world." He kissed her cheek again. "You can tie this bond with me and then have all the time in the world to get used to it."

"I don't understand why we can not stay like this!" she said in frustration. 

Legolas looked down at her in shock. "You actually want to........stay my..........concubine?" he said, amazed. 

"I prefer the word 'lover', thank you," she said dryly. 

He looked down at her for so long, she squirmed under his gaze. "I am not a man to take a mistress," he said with a cold tone. 

"Lover," she corrected him. 

"Whatever," he said in the same sharp tone, his gaze still fixed on her. 

"Don't tell me you had no lovers before," Irulan said, feeling irritated at being gazed down at so. 

"I had women in my life, yes," he said to that. "But not anyone I felt about like I do about you. And I carried for none the intentions I have for you. They were short-lived affairs. Not lovers, Irulan." He cupped her shoulder and glided his hand down again, to hold her hand. "I will not engage in a life when you will be known as someone whom I take physical pleasure in at nights. Who follows me around wherever I go, but who will remain in the shadows, looked down at as a woman with no name, no importance and no say in things. Does that sound honorable to you?"

She pursed her lips and looked away. "Well when you put it that way......"

"I would have to kill anyone who thinks lowly about you," he sighed then, "and I'm afraid it would add up to a formidable number."

"Perhaps no one would know?" she said with a weak voice. 

"*I* would know!" he said, his impatience evident now. "I will not have you belittled so. Even if it is YOUR wish, my answer is no." Irulan punched the water with anger and he suppressed a grin at that, sorting out the rose petals between the folds of her dark locks. "Besides," he added more softly, "everyone hears everything. Already they know your name, your face and what you mean to me. The palace might be large, but word travels faster than anywhere else in royal circles, my love."

He placed another quick kiss on her cheek, then lifted himself out of the pool, fetching his towel again. "When you step out, one of my guards will lead you to me. I will see you in an hour," he said and disappeared in the other room. 

Irulan moaned and massaged her face. "I will run away! Watch me!" she said in exasperation.

The soft laughter of Legolas echoed from the other room. "Run if it pleases you, Irulan," he said, appearing at the entrance again, his shirt and leggings on, "Alas, I can not make any promises that I will behave myself when I catch up. All that excitement and fire in my blood....." Legolas said with a low voice, walking towards her with feline grace. "........might make me do.......drastic.......things."

Irulan rolled her eyes and looked away. She felt him leaning down and kissing her cheek again. "If there is anything you wish for the ceremony. Anything........do not forget to remind me of it," he said softly.

"Indeed! I wish for Arod so that I can gallop away on him before this all takes place!"

"You will ride on Arod to evade a wedding?" Legolas said in amazement. 

"I think I might be very capable," she said dryly. 

"Look what wonderful things this wedding is doing to you, Irulan!" he said then. "Already you seem to have overcome your fear of horses!"

Irulan just moaned and dived under the water while the elf laughed and exited for good. 

*******


	27. Day Three, A Mighty Storm is Coming

Thank you everyone! I know I've been late……but this chapter was literally a struggle. And I am still not happy with it. It is an interlude chapter……an attempt to move on the story. Perhaps it is a bit too much mindless conversation and needless fluff…….but mainly for the reason of giving a glimpse of Irulan's palace life. And a means to explain certain thoughts and feelings of the characters. I only hope that at least some of you will enjoy it anyway.

Dear Alina…..thank you for your kind words and tempting requests….though I am beginning to think that I am not writing well enough to convey the story. Meaning, if you go back to chapter "Interlude: Tims is Frozen", and reread it, you will see that Legolas and Irulan have slept together back then. Meaning the first night of the Ball. And they were together last chapter, too. As for the degree of intimacy……I have written more detail…..but then decided to turn the heat down, for the sake of finding a middle way that would please everyone. Though I might consider adding the NC-17 parts when I post it on a different site. That seems to be the best solution. 

*******

This was not going well. Not well at all! Irulan punched the water again, then moaned and wiped the remnants of the splash off her face. He was supposed to be passive! Submissive, damn it! He was supposed to be kind and gentle and graceful.........and all that other crap elves were supposed to be. Especially an elven prince!

Why, when she had met Legolas, he had been very reserved and well-mannered. By the looks of it, he was becoming more bold and human by the day! But......he was joking. Right? Even someone out of his mind would know better than expecting a marriage in a day's time. Not to mention someone in his status. Surely he was joking. Just being.......silly, that's all. 

She sighed and climbed out of the pool, instantly wrapping a towel around her, although she knew that no one else was there to see her. All this laid-back attitude about the 'natural state of the body' was simply beyond her. She was no damn elf, period. 

Irulan walked over to her bedroom and realized that her gown had disappeared. Another was spread out on the bed, with fitting sandals and a note from Legolas saying that he had taken her own to be cleaned and picked up this one this morning as he had had ordered it to be prepared for her yesterday as a surprise for today. She sighed and held up the light turquoise colored garment that was immensely beautiful, but of softer and more comfortable fabric and obviously for daily usage, not an evening Ball. She braided her hair loosely and then bit her lower lip, looking at the beds. For a few moments she was indecisive......then simply took a deep breath and strode over to make both hers and Legolas' beds. True - it was perhaps ridiculous and an overly ignorant thing to do......but on the other hand, she felt uncomfortable thinking that someone else was actually going to make the bed she had slept in. She was no noble and no queen and very well capable of making her own bed. She hated to be served. It made her feel......like some sort of a hypocrite. 

After that, she took a deep breath and praying to the Valar that she would not blush with shame, stepped out of the door. 

She had barely time to close the door behind her when the guard said "Lady Irulan, this way please," with a voice that seemed oddly inhuman. She nodded, still feeling quite embarrassed to face them, since they were witness to her affairs with the Prince, and began to follow him. 

"What is your name?" she said then suddenly. 

The guard halted and blinked in surprise. 

"I am sorry. Was that an improper thing to ask?" she said with a nervous voice. 

"No, not at all," he said, trying to regain the inanimate edge of tone, "Only.......I have never been asked that, before." He stared at her as she stared back in surprise. Then blurted "Ahmod, my Lady." Irulan nodded in understanding and waited for him to resume the guiding. 

"Do you know where the nearest exit of the palace is, Ahmod?" she said then. He continued with long strides, while Irulan had to pick up her skirts to catch up with him. 

"I do," was his sole answer. 

After a few moments she said "And? Where is it?"

The guard turned to regard her without missing a step and Irulan felt embarrassed again. "I can not tell," he said then, and turned to look ahead again. 

"W-why not?" she said with disbelief. 

"His Majesty has told me to guide you directly to him."

"Alright," she said slowly, still half-running to keep up. "And you still can. I only want to know."

"Then I take it that you have intentions of leaving the palace?" he said, turning to her with that annoying look, once more. 

"N-no," Irulan stammered and tore her gaze away. 

"In that case, you do not need to know where the exists are, do you, Lady Irulan?"

Irulan gave him a sidelong shocked look. "But I-" she began, then closed her mouth and decided to finish the trip in silence.

They arrived at a room furnished with a simple desk. Legolas was sitting at it, going through a stack of parchments. At their arrival, he jumped to his feet. The guard saluted him, then bowed to her and left. Irulan remained looking after him until she felt Legolas' hand in hers and she turned to see him smiling down at her. 

"Do you train your guards personally?" she said.

His smile widened into a grin. "My personal guards know me well and I choose them wisely," was his soft reply. "How is it that you look more magnificent with every day, Irulan?" he said then, his gaze wandering over her figure. 

Irulan rolled her eyes. "I am seriously thinking that you are losing your sight, Legolas," she said finally. "I never did and never will look magnificent."

"And how modest you are," he said, striding around her with irritating concentration, looking at her new dress. "And this is certainly your color." He smiled slyly and placed his hands on her waist, then. "And your style, Irulan," he whispered in her ear. 

"It is about two sizes too small," Irulan hissed, wriggling out of his embrace. 

He laughed softly at that. "Not at all! Nature is not fond of hiding beauty," he said with amusement. "This is just your size. Your former garments were too large on you. Thankfully I have a keen eye," he added then with obvious amusement, kissing her cheek. "Are you hungry? Let us go for breakfast," he said, pulling her along. 

Legolas had ordered a private table to be prepared in one of his favorite gardens and the garden itself to be closed for other guests. The chairs were not placed across each other, but next to one another and she was once again amazed at the subtle attention of the servants to little details. Irulan sat down, stupefied by the variety and the fine designs of the food. Not knowing quite what to do, she remained sitting, her hands folded on her lap. "What is it? You look like you never had breakfast before," the Prince said with amusement, waiting for her to start, curious about what she would pick.

"As a matter of fact, I have not," she said, a little uncomfortable. "Not since my father died, that is." She looked up to see a shocked Legolas staring back at her. Irulan shrugged. "I........I am not used to it. I am not even hungry yet, Legolas."

"Really?" he said dryly, "I suppose your family insisted and you refused, then?"

Irulan pursed her lips and looked down, deciding no to answer that. The elf observed her for another moment, her lack of reply giving him the answer he was expecting. "I promise that you will get used to it in no time," he said. "Here, allow me." He picked her plate, adding different varieties of food, then gently placed it in front her. "Go on.......try.". Irulan sighed and began the process of tasting and discovering which had become her habit for some time now. 

"I have spoken to the tailor. He said he will be able to prepare you a bridal gown." Legolas decided to leave out the part where the poor old man almost fainted and the healers had to be called in for the continuance of the discussion. Upon discovering that the Prince was going to marry tomorrow, even some of those had swayed and had felt forced to leave for the House of Healers. "And I insisted on a new gown for tonight. Although you look magnificent as ever, I thought, since it is the last night-"

He stopped when Irulan broke into a coughing fit. "So you were serious?" she managed, several moments later, after Legolas had gently patted her on the back. 

He looked at her, amazed. "Of course I was," he said softly. 

She put the fork back and swallowed hard. "Legolas, now listen," she began softly, trying not to break into another coughing fit, but he folded his hand over hers. 

"Nay. My heart speaks louder than your words," he said gently. 

"There is simply no way I can be QUEEN in one day!"

"I told you before," he said to that, "you do not have to. You will be free to do whatever you wish."

"Then why the rush?"

"Irulan, the marriage of a Prince is not an easy thing. It requires many official procedures. Everything is already prepared for the Ball. It is the perfect timing, for we will not have to go through it once again."

"Go through what?"

"The invitation of all representatives. The preparation of food, of accommodation, of service. The official declaration and gathering of..."

"That's it! You are..........terrifying me, Legolas!" she said, jumping to her feet and turning around to dive into the corridor. As ridiculous as it was, she began to run, turning right and left and right again, knowing that she was most probably losing her direction again, but feeling unable to stop. "ALL the representatives of ALL kingdoms! Now THAT is just WONDERFUL!" she hissed and ran even harder. She glanced back and thankfully the elf was nowhere to be seen. Amazed that she had actually evaded Legolas, she ran on. She did not know where to go from here or what to do now. It did not matter. She would have some time alone. And she definitely needed that. She ran harder, clutching at her skirts and ignoring the stares of the servants she was getting. She turned yet another corner, glancing back and feeling elation at the lack of sight of Legolas, and ran right into Lord Haldir. 

The man, endowed with elven reflexes, stepped aside and grabbed Irulan by the elbow, stopping her from falling on her face. "Lady Irulan!" he said, a little shocked and alarmed. Then gazed around him to discover what could be causing this state of hers. 

"L-lord Haldir!" she stammered, shocked herself. She straightened her skirts, heaving with the running and glanced towards the direction she had come from, feeling anxious.

"Is something the matter?" 

"Wh-what? No!" 

"Oh," Haldir said then and decided against delving any further. Besides, he had finally managed to find some time alone with this infamous lady. Though Legolas could not be too far. "Well would you join me for a morning stroll, then?" he said and offered his arm. Irulan blinked in surprise. A moment later though, took his arm as he led her to yet another corridor. She took a deep breath and tried to still her heart. 

"We have barely found the time to talk," the elf began then and Irulan, who finally managed to push everything else to the background, focused on the fact that she was with an elf – not to mention the lord of the Lothlorien elves. 

"Yes, indeed," she said then, wiping her sweat off and thinking that she must be like some animal in his eyes. 

"Prince Legolas is determined not to share your company," the man said, amused. 

"Prince Legolas has been most kind to me," she said carefully. 

"I am certain of that," the elf mused to that. When Irulan remained silent, he continued: "So tell me a little about yourself," he nudged her. 

"Ah, never when there is so much YOU can tell me about Lothlorien, Lord Haldir!" 

The elf's eyebrows rose softly to that. "You wish to know about Lothlorien?"

"I would LOVE to!"

Haldir chuckled softly at that and looked down at her, bemused. "Let's see……..where to start………" he said as they walked out into another garden and he took a path amongst the labyrinth of trees. 

Legolas, not certain how to react, had remained rooted on his feet at the departure of Irulan. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. Alright, so he was really pushing it. He tried to put himself in her position and alas, it must be frustrating to say the least! And yet……..it was simply too good a chance to miss. Besides……Legolas had this itching feeling that Irulan had a tendency to slip away if he only but dared to turn his back. He was afraid to lose her. All he wanted was a bond, a tie, a promise…….anything to secure her in his life. After that, she could do whatever she wanted. She could have all the freedom in the world. She could go and travel the world. Him and her together – they could do anything she desired. 

"Attack without second thought and regret," he murmured to himself, and took another breath. Then began to walk in the direction she had disappeared. The walked in slow, determined steps and did not have to utter a single word. Every servant he came across, swiftly stepped aside and guided him with soft voices. "In that direction, Sire", or "She just passed this way, Your Majesty", or "Lady Irulan just ran down the hall, Highness." Legolas walked softly and in long strides, his face expressionless and hard, his servants bowing till the ground at that. Under such guidance he reached the garden and almost cursed out loud. 'Of all places, THIS garden!' he thought in dismay. He gazed with desperation as the Labyrinthine Woods stretched out before him. Taking another deep breath, he decided on a path and stepped in. 

He walked further and further in, knowing the paths so well that he could walk blindfolded. But the garden was huge (as everything else in the palace) and Irulan could be anywhere. He walked for almost twenty minutes and only then caught voices. Knowing that no one else could be this deep in the Labyrinthine Woods aside from himself, Aragorn or the gardeners, he knew that it was Irulan. But then…….it sounded a lot like………

Legolas remained frozen and listened with intensity. It WAS Lord Haldir! And they were………they were laughing! "That damnable elf!" he hissed and waited for another moment to find his direction. Oddly the sensation of a hunt came to him and as the breeze came from the right, bringing in their voices, he began his chase, feeling like Legolas, and yet not like Legolas at all. 

He turned left. Then he turned right. And turned and turned again. The voices grew dimmer, then louder, then vanished completely. He did not panic, knowing that the absence of it did not mean that he lost them – he knew exactly where he was going and he knew he was on the right path, even though he often walked in the opposite direction of them. 

Many minutes later he stepped out from behind a line of bushes and watched Lord Haldir and Irulan walking down the small path with a lazy stroll. Their backs were turned to him and the Lothlorien elf would have heard him under normal circumstances. But not now, when Legolas was a hunter. When he was more silent than the wind, more hidden than a leaf on a tree. He crossed his arms on his chest, fuming with that horrible feeling again, and watched the couple. 

"So when will you come to visit, Irulan?" Haldir said and Legolas' eyes widened at his use of her name. 

"Well……..I am kind of…….busy right now," Irulan said and Legolas observed her picking leaves from the bushes they were passing by. 

"Oh but it is the best time! The season is just right to see the Mallorn trees in bloom."

Irulan looked at him in awe. "Really?" she said softly. "How long do they stay so?"

"Around two months. They are a gorgeous sight indeed, Irulan. Not as gorgeous as you, of course," he added with a softer voice. 

Irulan blushed and resumed her walk. The Prince decided that it was enough right there and then and began to walk towards them in barely controlled temper as Lord Haldir gazed down at her. "The color on your cheeks is just amazing, Irulan," he said, in equal admiration of the blush on humans. 

"Exactly my sentiments!" said Legolas suddenly and both elf and woman jumped slightly. At his sight surprise was the only expression on Haldir's face while Irulan blanched visibly, knowing what this meant. 

"Prince Legolas! So you finally decided to join us! Honestly, I was expecting you earlier."

"Were you now?" the Prince said with an incredibly edgy voice and took a step towards them. Irulan immediately freed her arm from Haldir's and entwined her fingers in front of her, gulping audibly. "We……..we met along the way," she stammered. 

"I was keeping Lady Irulan company," the elf said with a smile. 

"Thank you," the Prince said curtly. Then they engaged in a silent and long staring duel. One that only elves would be capable of. Irulan looked from one to the other and back. 

"I invited Irulan to see-…."

"LADY Irulan, Haldir," seethed Legolas. 

"Ah," the other elf said in amusement, "but she insisted."

At that, Legolas turned to look at the woman, who stopped biting her nails instantly. "I did!" she said, over-excited. "I mean I could not let Lord Haldir-…."

"Haldir, my dear," the elf said smoothly. 

"Well," began Irulan, swallowing hard and still looking from one to the other, "I think it is best if I don't, Lord Haldir."

"Oh but I insist! There it is again! You blush beautifully Irulan!"

"That's it!" boomed Legolas and stepped between them. "Do NOT call her by her name again. EVER!"

"She does not like to be called a lady," the Lothlorien elf said in his famous cool voice. 

"Very well," hissed Legolas and took a step towards him, "then you shall call her by her new title. QUEEN Irulan."

Finally his calm outer demeanor broke at that. Haldir's eyes widened tremendously and he blinked several times before he found his voice again. "Wh-what?" was all he managed to say. 

"I am certain that you heard me, Lord Haldir," he said with a dangerous smile. 

"I…….I have. But what does that-"

"It means that Irulan shall be my wife."

Haldir opened and closed his mouth several times, then said "Well but…..-"

"Tomorrow. And you are invited to witness it of course."

At that, Haldir was finally and completely speechless. 

Irulan moaned then and both elves turned to look at her. She looked as white as snow. They blinked in unison and the Prince took a step towards her. "What is it? Irulan?"

She waved her hand vehemently, trying to breathe. "I am…….so…….so………MAD!" she yelled and both elves took a step back at that. "AND ANGRY!" she screamed and a flock of birds took flight at the startling sound from a nearby tree. Legolas and Haldir glanced at each other, astonished. "AND FED UP!" They flinched at the tone. "YOU…….YOU……..MEN!!!"

She began to kick the nearby bush with fervor and both elves remained rooted, watching her with alarm. "Irulan," Legolas said finally, his voice shaking, "please…….you will get yourself ill again."

"What? What do you mean?" said Haldir to that anxiously. 

"I WISH I WOULD!!!" she screeched.

"Fine thing you have done, Lord Haldir!" hissed Legolas then and the other elf paled at that. 

"What on earth did *I* do?"

"You made her ill again!" Legolas said with burning eyes. 

"What does that mean?! What will happen now?"

"I WILL KILL MYSELF AND RID US ALL!" Irulan screamed and kicked the bush again. 

"Irulan, stop," Legolas said and stepped closer to her, cautious not to alarm her. But Irulan was lost in her frenzy of kicking and did not notice it. 

"Sweet Valar! What will we do?" whispered Haldir, following at his heels. 

"My love, please remain calm," Legolas said softly, ignoring the other elf completely. 

"Legolas, don't you DARE tell me to be calm! How can I be calm?! Huh, HOW?!" she yelled and approached him with so much fury in her eyes, that the elves took a step back against their intentions. 

Haldir's eyes widened at that. "Prince Legolas! Do something!"

"Like what?!" he shouted back. "If you are the expert, let us take advantage of your knowledge!"

"Well of course not! I have no knowledge about such human conditions!"

"Then be quiet!" the Prince thundered back. 

Irulan covered her face with her hands and began to sob, then. She felt delirious to say the least. "Don't…………..don't!" cried Irulan and at that sight, the Prince's heart faltered tremendously. 

"Don't cry," he said softly. 

"Why is she crying?! What does that mean?!" Haldir boomed. 

"Legolas, please. I do not want to be the reason for a fight, no more!" she sniffed. 

"Alright!" he said hastily, closing the distance between them again, "Alright," he added softer. "Just calm down. You will make yourself ill," he soothed her. 

Irulan cried even harder at that. "Dear Valar! She will die!" exclaimed Haldir. 

Legolas turned to him with unparalleled fury. "Enough! She will do no such thing!" He fought down the panic rising in him to extreme degrees at that, "Go away!"

"I can not! I am too worried!" 

"Promise that you won't let them drug me and tie me again," Irulan cried. 

"I promise," he said softly. "If you stay calm, I promise I will not take you to them." She nodded at that and he finally managed to come close enough to embrace her as she gently lay her head on his chest. Legolas sighed with slight relief and embraced her stronger. 

"Again? What does that mean, 'again'?!" boomed Lord Haldir and Legolas had to close his eyes and use all his willpower not to turn around and choke the elf to death. He looked over his shoulder with the most infuriating look he could manage. But to his utter demise, Lord Haldir was too worked up about the matter to notice his look. "What is happening?! What kind of disease is this? Why won't you tell me?"  
  
Legolas opened his mouth to say something utterly nasty, curse be the politics and the affairs with Lothlorien and all, but thankfully Irulan was faster: "I am not ill, Lord Haldir. I am only……….tired, I assure you."

Legolas did not divert his ugly gaze from him while he stroked her back. Haldir stared at Irulan for a long moment. Then he walked up to her and stood behind her, staring down at her in a bewildered state. "Are you really well?" he whispered, swallowing softly. 

"I am," she said softly, looking up at him with red eyes, her head still resting on Legolas' chest. 

Haldir nodded then. "You…….had me really worried, Lady Irulan," he whispered, his blue gaze focused on her.

"She is fine," hissed Legolas between clenched teeth, as he remained frozen at Haldir's bold attitude. "Please Lord Haldir, leave," he added then with a tired voice. 

He watched the other elf hesitating for a moment, then walking away. Then he looked down at Irulan in his arms. "You ARE fine, are you not?" he said softly.

Irulan wiped her tears away and nodded. "I am, Legolas."

"Come," he whispered and led her by the hand through the heart of the Labyrinthine Woods, where the infamous elven structure of a water fountain was. The Fountain of Life and Rebirth, that is. He guided her to a bench facing it and sat along with her, his arm still secured around her waist.

Legolas sat next to her as they watched the art and work of the immensely complicated system of fountains expanded before them. He watched her trying to see as much as she could, her gaze sweeping back and forth over and over again the immense structure that was, no doubt, a masterwork of elven architecture, consisting of a dense labyrinth of wells, fountains, canals, pipes, wheels and saucers. The water, gently falling, sliding, gliding down, filling and emptying, turning and churning was partly transported back up only to start its journey anew. 

He looked down at their entwined hands and put his other hand on top, feeling her cool skin against his warmer embrace. The pull he felt for Irulan would have been extremely disturbing and frightening, if not for the evident pleasure it brought with it. He wondered if anyone ever felt that way. If it was this kind of love that had started wars, or broken kingdoms or caused the death of whole families or tribes. Judging by the strength of it, it might as well be. 

They remained silent for many minutes as Legolas watched her looking at the amazing work of architecture and her features betraying the calming of her mood. He sighed a tired sigh then, and slightly pulling her towards himself, kissed her cheek. Irulan did not respond in any way, her eyes still glued to the cascading waterfalls and Legolas pursed his lips with alarm as to what her lack of reaction could mean. "Are you angry with me?" he said then, his other hand finding hers and his fingers closing on hers. 

Irulan thought about his question. A part of her was, indeed. "A little," she said then, not looking up. 

Legolas swallowed softly at her words. "You have every right to. I understand." 

"But it does not make a difference, does it?" was her tired sigh of a reply. 

"It makes all the difference in the world to me," he said, shaken by her attitude. 

"Of course," she said dryly, unable to stop herself from doing so. "But it won't make a difference in your decision, will it Legolas?"

She felt his fingers squeezing her hand a trifle stronger, but still did not look up at him. Legolas did not speak for several moments as he fought an inner battle of fervent nature. Suddenly it occurred to him that Irulan, who loved him now might actually end up hating him for his deeds. He would lose everything! For the sake of having her, he would lose her – as foolish as that sounded. 

"Irulan," he said finally and halted for a moment before he continued, "I have spent a lifetime of no importance. And when I met you…….a desire erupted in me. The wish to finally do something of importance. Something worthy of mention." He sighed and looked to the fountains, his fingers not ceasing their caress on her hand. "I know what you think……..you think being the Prince is as important as one can become. But……it is not. It is my duty and I am happy to oblige it." He sighed again, looking down at their entwined hands. "I want to do something as myself. As Legolas. Nay…….perhaps that is a misleading expression. I want to BE someone. I want to become someone beyond my title."

He looked at her, slightly turning towards her as Irulan could not help to look up. "You see…….I was asleep, Irulan. I was lying under layers of ice and frost, caught in a perfect state of slumber. I was dreaming my life away, not feeling, not thinking, never questioning and always relenting to my destiny." He laughed then and Irulan was once again amazed at how beautiful a laugh can be, coming from an elf. "Believe me when I say that the hope of a savior is not one of maidens alone. For I too was dreaming of a savior – though of different nature, no doubt." He chuckled again shortly, then continued: "And then you came into my life. You came and you strode over my grave, where I lay in perfect statuesque numbness, not knowing that the sound of your footsteps and the warm trail of them on my premises woke me up to a life that had been taken from me. You saved me," he said with a graceful shrug. "I shall never be the same again and ever grateful, no matter what our story will become in the future."

"But," he said then, with an edge of sadness once more, "I have woken up to winter, no doubt. My world is one with no other season, Irulan. And how cruel it is that now I am aware of the bite of the cold. That I am spared the slumber only to discover that this territory is as harsh and sharp as it can get. Without you, that is."

"I am certain that men would call this 'ironic', no?" He smiled, his fingers gliding down her cheek before they returned to embrace her hand. "And perhaps it was my desperation to prolong the sensation of life and warmth that pushed me to such extremes in my handling of you. Perhaps, without thinking it to be so, I was indeed selfish and aiming only for my own well-being. Perhaps, in my eagerness and greed for life, I have driven you to discomfort."

Legolas hesitated momentarily, before he concluded: "But I am no such man. I shall never be. Irulan………..if you but tell me this moment that you do not desire me as a husband without the slightest doubt and hesitation……….I shall stand in your way no longer." It was perhaps the hardest sentence spoken in his life. But now that it was out, it was the truest thing to say. He would stand true to his word. If she said it, he would ask no longer – no matter what that meant. And it meant certain death as a result of his Grief…….but that was of no importance. And he would never explain that to her, for it would affect her decision in the wrong way. 

Irulan looked up at him then and saw the truth of his words echoing in his eyes. There is was……the whole decision was in her hands. She could say the word and leave Legolas behind. Forever. And go do all the things she always wanted to. But……..as ridiculous as it was…….she could not remember a single thing that she had desired more than she desired being with Legolas. Her mind whirled in frustration, trying to find something worthy, and failing over and over and over again. 

Legolas said no other word as his heart beat like a hammer in his chest. And yet, along with the tension was a sense of relief. The relief of having done the right thing. It seemed like several months had passed before Irulan looked up to him, prolonging the torture further as he dared not falter under her gaze. His throat felt dry, his limbs cold. And yet, he did not move, fearing the worst. 

"How strange," she said in confusion, a frown on her face, as she looked over his shoulder to the garden, her eyes not seeing. "How strange, Legolas." He waited on, the agony growing in him, but his spirit forcing the impatience away. "She looked at him again. "That day we first met……..in the forest. Do you remember?"

He nodded, keeping his silence. "When you told me your desire for another. And your loneliness." She cocked her head, looking even deeper into his eyes. "You told me that nothing would mean pleasure without the sharing. No…….those were not the words……." Legolas bit his lip as he watched Irulan frowning again with concentration. "You said that loneliness is a curse…….that……takes the pleasure of everything else!" she finished with a bright smile, to which he could only smile in return, nodding in confirmation. 

"And I thought you strange," she said, her smile growing wider as her eyes traveled around the garden once more. "I was alone all my life," she added then, shrugging softly, "and I could not understand why that was such a horrible thing. I thought……...as long as one was doing the things one loved, what was the need for another?" Irulan laughed then, shaking her head. "What foolish thoughts!"

She sighed again and looked up at him, as he stood as still as a statue. "No, I did not understand you then. I do now. Now that I met you……..I can not imagine anything better to experience in Middle Earth. Especially at the price of losing you," Irulan finished almost with a whisper. 

He should say something. But he had no idea what. His heart was hoping for the best, his mind was imagining the worst…….and Legolas was only a heap of shreds in between those two forces. "No, Legolas," she said then, sighing softly, "I have no doubts in the matter whatsoever – I DO want you as a husband."

And Legolas exhaled a long, soft breath he was not even aware of holding. He gave himself another moment, trying to suppress the dizziness that threatened to overcome him, then said with the softest voice he could muster: "What have I done to invoke mistrust in you, Irulan?"

"Mistrust?" she said in confusion.

He nodded, his hand on her waist pulling her yet closer. "Perhaps you think that I will make a mistake in the matter……..I do not know……..act unwise…..and emotional, and give in to certain temptations….."

"No," said Irulan, thinking about his words. "You are the wisest and most trustable man I have ever met. I know with certainty that I will always be safe when you make decisions – for you will always place my interests before your own."

Legolas nodded with satisfaction and dared a smile. "And so it shall be. Always." He leaned down to kiss her cheek. "If I am worthy of such trust, maybe it is time you grant it to me, Irulan," he said with a cautious tone. 

Irulan looked down at their entwined hands. Indeed…….it only made sense. "It certainly is," she said with a whisper. "I should let go, should I not?" she added, locking eyes with him again. 

"Yes," he whispered back. 

"Why is it so hard to let go?" she said then with a tinge of desperation. 

Legolas chuckled at that. "Because you were not born to do so, I suppose."

A sly smile came over her lips. "But I fear that you will take my 'yes' for everything that will follow. What exactly am I agreeing to?"

"I trust the Valar. If they had crossed our paths, it MUST be a seed worthy of tending to. We shall dedicate this life to this task and see what mighty tree will become of it."

Irulan laughed as Legolas joined her laughter. "Sounds like a very elusive answer to me," she managed to say many moments later. 

"Let us say 'all encompassing', Irulan," he said, kissing her hand, then her cheek, while she still laughed and he could not help accompanying her. Many minutes later, he said "You have agreed." And another moment later again "You have agreed."

"I have indeed," said Irulan with mock regret, to break the intense atmosphere of the moment. 

Legolas grinned down at her, then. "This moment shall mark the time I saved you from all future decisions, dear Irulan."

Her eyes narrowed to that. "You saved me from……..what exactly is the meaning of that?"

"I shall take this tedious process upon me and thereby grant you all the comfort a being can have."

"Legolas," she said with a warning tone, "if you think that…."

He kissed her then, silencing her threat and catching her by surprise. "You asked for the cure of your indecision, have you not?" he said, gliding his fingers over her lips. "I have found it, my love," he said and kissed her again, with far more passion. 

"Legolas," Irulan said finally, and her voice betrayed her own excitement, "someone will see us!" Though it was highly unlikely for anyone to come this deep into the Labyrinthine Woods. But then……..a gardener might be passing by, or not? As an answer the elf encircled her waist and pulled her closer. "Legolas!" she hissed with more urgency. 

"I do not care," he said finally, and it was an effort to say it. 

"Actually I doubt that there is anyone in the castle who has not seen it yet!" she said then, bitterly. 

"Why does it upset you so?" he said, not lingering too long in his ministrations.

"It is not a nice thing to do in public! It is a very private matter."

"I have killed in public," Legolas murmured and pulled her even closer as she became certain that that particular part of her shoulder and neck was now definitely on flame, "I have fought in public. If anything, to kiss you should be far more natural and acceptable a deed."

She pushed herself off a little and he complied quite unwillingly. "Are you not afraid of what it would do to your…….reputation?"

"My reputation?" he said with surprise, and finally stopped to look up at her. 

"I mean your image. As a Prince. As a man of power."

A frown settled on his face. "I do not see the connection," he said, wiping a strand of hair away from her face. 

Irulan sighed and gazed at the tumultuous waterfalls and the quiet ponds and the merry streams of the structure again. "Let me put it this way – you do not look very dangerous when you are in this state, Legolas!"

The elf laughed and pulled her closer again to resume his kissing. "I would say that it is to my advantage, then. They will never see me coming," he added with a sinister voice. 

"I always thought that elves were less expressive about their feelings," she said, half stammering now and still unable to evade Legolas.

"Not when it comes to love," he whispered and kissed her ear, knowing that Irulan would respond to that. "Besides," he added a moment later, "I am no ordinary elf. I was never raised as one." To her surprise, he stopped and leaned back then to regard her. "I am Prince of Ithilien, Irulan. Ithilien does not follow standards – it sets them. We shall set our own standards and the world will simply have to accept them," he said, holding her hand. 

And so it was that Irulan, daughter to no one, finally and after many painful and agonizing efforts decided to marry Legolas, son of Thandruil and Prince of Ithilien, sitting in the Labyrinthine Woods and facing the Spring of Life and Rebirth. She, who had only dreamed of freedom, decided that there were different forms of freedom, and that the most precious of those, was still not worthy enough to trade with love. She would marry Legolas and remain with him. She would leave Irulan, cease to exist as Irulan, to become someone else, someone mightier than her. She would choose love over all……and as Legolas had predicted, never live to regret that decision for a single moment.

*****

They stepped together into the tailor's room that was embedded in a frenzy which reminded her very much of Harkey's place. The frenzy continued despite the appearance of the Prince as fabrics and garments literally flew through the air. Legolas took her to the head tailor who was sitting on a chair, ordering his staff around, dabbing a piece of wet cloth on his forehead. At the sight of the Prince he immediately sprang to his feet. 

"Sire!" he said, then not knowing how to continue, remained silent. 

Legolas pulled Irulan to his side. "This is Lady Irulan. You have already prepared several garments for her, though you have not seen her in person before. Is the bridal gown ready?"

"READY?!" he boomed in disbelief, then remembering the identity of the person in front of him, hastily added "We are working on it, Sire."

Legolas nodded to that. "Well you have asked for her, have you not?" he said, raising his eyebrows when the old man just kept staring back at him without moving for several moments. 

The head tailor woke up to that. "Ah yes! Of course. For exact measurements. Please, this way, Lady Irulan," he said, his eyes glued to the future Queen of Ithilien as he guided her to another room. 

There Irulan remained standing as she was measured in every imaginable way and fashion and asked questions about her preference in clothing that she had never been asked before in her life. Legolas remained next to her, answering some of those for her or looking at her with equal confusion at some. Finally when the torture was over, he took her hand and guided her away and just when Irulan thought that she could at least for a while forget about that dreadful ceremony, she found herself in a gigantic maze of a kitchen, frantic with another sort of frenzy. 

The head waiter spotted them immediately and began to guide them hastily through the kitchen, showing them several items of cutlery, food, tablecloth, plates and wine glasses, dried flowers and baskets, asking for opinion. Irulan, intently watched by the entire kitchen staff, colored incredibly and kept her eyes and her voice down as she followed Legolas around. The elf, observing her state, made quick decisions and only asked if he deemed her opinion essential, thereby saving her the trouble of small details. 

An hour after that they were walking out of the kitchen, leaving an even greater frenzy behind. "Are you tired, my love?" he said then gently, looking down at her blanched profile. 

Irulan swallowed softly. "I am a little.......bewildered," she finished with a whisper as the prince squeezed her hand softly. 

"We are almost finished. But these things must be done. They steal from our time together, yes, but after tomorrow we will have all the time in the world to make for that," he said, smiling. Irulan almost moaned to that. 

They went to see other servants for the message to be taken to each visitor at the palace and also for several messengers sent to the city to let the public know of the sudden wedding and to invite anyone who wishes to witness it to the castle. Then servants who would prepare the gardens for the ceremony. The servants who would deal with the processes following the ceremony. So on and so forth. Until it was late afternoon and Irulan swayed with tiredness and bewilderment. 

Legolas took her hand then leading her away and while she expected another meeting with another servant group, she found herself in the corridor that led to his room. He led her in and then motioned her to lie down on the bed, which suggestion Irulan happily obliged. She literally threw herself on the bed with a sigh as the elf took off his outer tunic and his boots, lying next to her and embracing her waist while he buried his face into the crook of her neck. 

They remained silent for a few moments as Irulan closed her eyes and tried to grasp what kind of life she was stepping into. "Are you hungry?" Legolas whispered finally. "Shall I order lunch to be brought up to our room?"

'Our room!' thought Irulan in lack of understanding and took a deep breath to calm herself. "No," she said then, feeling her stomach turn with the mention of food. She was far too afraid, excited and frustrated to eat. 

"But you have not eaten anything since breakfast," he said softly, lying a little back and watching her profile. 

"I am not hungry," she said then, opening her eyes and looking at him. They lay there looking at each other for a long time as the silence stretched around them. Legolas rose to sit then and glided over to losen the straps of her sandals and remove them from her feet. Irulan did not move or speak until he was finished and resumed his position, propping himself on his elbow and looking down at her. "Why do you look at me so?" she said finally at his unwavering concentration. 

"I think, he whispered, gliding his finger down her cheekbone towards her neckline, "you are the most beautiful sight I have seen. But surely many must have told you so already."

Irulan laughed softly. "You are unbelievable, Legolas," she said, laughing again. She looked up at him, smiling then. "I am not naive. I know that I am nowhere near beautiful. By best standards I can be deemed pretty, I suppose. And I am most certainly nothing like the gorgeous women you must have seen around royal circles."

He looked back in disbelief. "Surely you don't mean that," he managed to say finally. 

Irulan rolled her eyes and resumed her observation of the ceiling. "It is your vision of things, believe me," she said, not diverting her gaze. "You see things.....different."

"Nay," he said softly, caressing her cheek, "I see things as they are. Others may look beautiful. But you ARE beautiful. And I am very blessed," he said, picking up her hand and kissing her palm. "To think that all these years I have been right here and you have been only a few miles from me!" he whispered, cocking his head to take a better look at her. "Living in a basement," he added bitterly, then. "You must allow me to pay your family a visit," he said with a dangerous tone, playing with her fingers. "I have things to say to them!"

"I do not seek such satisfaction," she sighed. "I am not the fighter Eowyn is, I suppose."

"But you fought me," he said with a childish smile, then. "To no end, but nevertheless," he added with a smirk.

"I did not!" she said with shock. 

"Oh yes you did! You still do, Irulan," he said softly. 

"So I am supposed to just accept anything you wish of me, is that so?"

"Though it sounds tempting," he sighed, kissing her cheek again, "I love you better the way you are. And I love the pursuit."

Irulan rolled her eyes. "Men!" Then a sudden idea appeared to her. "You remind me more and more of Dernhelm," she said, biting down a grin. 

The change in his expression was priceless. "Dernhelm again," he hissed, his eyes glued to hers. Irulan shrugged with mock innocence. "What exactly was the nature of your relationship with him?" he said suddenly, in a way happy that the topic had emerged. 

"I told you. He was my friend," she said, still fighting the grin and thinking that Eowyn was indeed a unique girl. 

Legolas grinded his teeth for a few moments. "How close a friend?" he said then. Irulan shrugged in response. "Did he kiss you?" he said with a cold tone and she almost chocked with shock, hastily hiding it behind a cough. The idea of Dernhelm kissing her! She sat up to prevent the cough turning into a deadly one and the elf sat up with her, facing her.

"What kind of question is that?!" she said finally with a tinge of anger. "Do I ask of your affairs in the past?"

"So you had an affair!" he said, his eyes widening. 

"Legolas," she waved dismissively, "that is truly none of your business." 

Legolas pursed his lips at that and remained silent. It was none of his business. Much less something he could change. He still itched with the idea, though. "Very well," he said then, pulling her closer by the waist and leaning down to kiss her, "you are mine now."

"I am not yours," she said with disbelief as he kissed her again, this time with more passion. 

"Yes you are," he whispered, kissing her again. 

"You have to change your perception of things," she said breathlessly when she managed to break the kiss. "I am not a piece of furniture or a book."

"I never said that you were, my love," he said, kissing her throat. Irulan pushed him back, though a part of her instantly scolded her for doing so. 

"I belong to myself!" she said in childish fury. 

Legolas sighed and attempted to kiss her again as Irulan placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back again. He sighed with frustration. "Of course you do! And to me." Her eyebrows rose to that. "Is it such a bad thing to belong to someone?" he said then, gliding his fingers through her hair. "I do not mind belonging to you."

"I think everyone should belong to themselves only," she said with a low voice. 

Legolas, losing the last remnants of his patience, effectively pinned her arms behind her back and pulled her immensely close as Irulan found herself sitting nose to nose with him an gazing into his eyes. "I suppose I will have to claim you, then," he said with a husky voice and kissed her harder.

"Why, you-" she began but he kissed her to silence, pulling her closer yet.

"How fortunate for me that you like dominant men, Irulan," he whispered into her ear and licked her earlobe as she gasped despite herself. His embrace tightened as he gently bit her neck. 

"I knew that was a mistake," she moaned, her eyes closing at the sensation of his tongue tracing her neckline back to her ear as he nibbled on her earlobe again. "Let me go," she whispered, trying very hard to still her heart but failing badly. 

"No," he said with a soft laugh and kissing the spot below her ear. 

"Stop seducing me, Legolas," she said, trying to free her arms again, to no end. 

"Stop resisting, then," he said, finding her lips and kissing her again. 

She stilled herself then, and remained relaxed. Legolas smiled down at her and released her arms. He cupped her cheeks, kissing her gently on the lips. "See," he said softly, pulling back, "you can bend me easier when you give in."

Irulan stared back in disbelief then shook her head. "Why you sly devil!" she said as he chuckled with delight. "Indeed!" said Irulan and swiftly glided off the bed. "And if I refuse to give in?"

Legolas sighed in mock desperation. "Then I shall prove to be......unbendable." With that he sprang to his feet and Irulan, startled by his speed, could not help to shout out and backed into the bathroom. 

"Don't you dare!" was all she could come up with as she laughed despite herself. 

Legolas snickered as he removed his shirt and kept advancing on her, "One mistake after the other, Irulan. You should not have said that."

"Legolas stop! You are shameless!" she laughed and ran into the bathroom, towards the opposite end of the pool. But by the time she was there, he was already standing across her in a relaxed attitude. 

"Come here," he said with a low voice. 

"No!" 

"Irulan, come here," he repeated, crossing his arms on his chest. 

"Look," she began, then exploded into laughter again, "I am only laughing because I am damn angry!" she said, wiping the tears away. His eyebrows rose to that but he remained silent. "Listen Legolas, alright, I take it back," she said, waving her arms to breathe again in between the laughter. "I give in, alright?"

"Come here then," he said, slowly walking up to her as she backed in the opposite direction. 

"Don't be a child!" she said, careful not to trip over the long skirt of her gown. 

"I will not repeat myself, Irulan." he said, clasping his hands behind his back and still walking leisurely to her. Irulan took a deep breath and took a glance at the door. "You will not make it," he added, not even looking in her direction. She stuck out her tongue to him and ran towards it. Legolas was right of course. One step away she was snatched back and all her struggle and shrieking did not help as the elf jumped into the pool with her.

"You crazy elf!" she shouted as she emerged on the surface again, observing the state of her garment. Legolas only laughed at that and glided to stand before her, backing her to the wall. "You ruined the dress, Legolas," she stammered, trying to look unaffected by his gaze. 

"Let us take it off, then," was all he said as he embraced her gently. "I will get you another one," he said with a grin, picking the rose petals from her hair. "And you do not need it for the remainder of the night, anyway." He kissed her again and Irulan laughed with mock anger as he took off her garment and threw the wet mass on the tiles, along with his leggings. "Now," he said, backing her to the wall again and pressing himself against her, "why did you not obey when I told you to come to me?"

"Obey?!" she said with shock. 

Legolas nodded curtly. "Does the ceremony of human weddings not include a part where the woman has to promise to honor and obey her husband?"

"It does?" she said with annoyance. 

He nodded again, placing his forehead on hers. "I thought it strange. But after having met you........it seems to have some wisdom to it, Irulan."

Irulan laughed and smacked him on the shoulder. "Don't we have to leave to the Ball now?" she said then. 

"Not yet," he said and kissed her. "We have to work on the wedding vows," he added with a smile, entwining his fingers in her hair and kissing her deeper as Irulan gave in to the fire claiming her. 

***** 

When they entered the Grand Hall that night, a mighty roar of applause rose from the crowd of royal circles, as they had already received the invitation and the news. Irulan was caught quite off-guard and in her confusion, almost hid behind Legolas, who would not let go of her hand no matter what. She stared at the crowd, not understanding what this was all about. 

"They are hailing the Queen of Ithilien," the Prince shouted into her ear and her eyes widened with shock. "Just smile and nod, Irulan," he said, observing her fear. And she did exactly that. Legolas was right – the crowd responded to that by slowly ceasing the tumult and looking at the couple expectantly. 

"Thank you," Legolas said then into the silence, placing his hand on his heart in the fashion of Ithilien greeting. His eyes wandered through the Hall as his voice rang clearly: "As of tomorrow, Lady Irulan shall be Queen of Ithilien. It will be the beginning of an incredibly happy period for both me and Ithilien. Together we shall plant the seed that will become an era of love and tolerance." He halted briefly as everyone waited with expectation. "I will be honored to be your host of the ceremony and I hope that you will be by my side on this day of grave importance." 

He smiled and nodded, as the crowd broke into applause again. Then he walked through the room, leading Irulan by the hand. The next room showed the same reaction. And the next. Irulan swallowed as thousands of eyes focused on her, watching her as if she was the most curious object of Middle Earth. "You must get used to this, my love," he said gently. "It is an unfortunate price of your position. At times a great price, perhaps. But the less you think of it, the less burden it will become for you." She nodded, knowing that her road of return was blocked for good and there was simply no point in fighting any longer. All knew her. She could not go back. 

Finally when the tumult had died out more or less, they sat at a desk in a garden while servants rushed to bring them dinner. 

"Lady Irulan, allow us a wish as the staff," someone said to her right. She blinked and turned to see a servant bowing to her. 

"Of course," she managed to say. 

"Please do not make the beds again," he said then. 

She remained agape for a moment. "She made the BEDS?" Legolas said in amazement. 

"Aye, Sire. We felt......unneeded."

"I......I......" she stammered then, "old habit, I suppose," she said finally. The man blinked in surprise to that and looked up to the Prince, clear confusion on his face. 

"Lady Irulan was of your profession when I met her," Legolas said to that. 

When the man looked even more confused, she felt the need to speak up herself. "I was a servant myself," she said. "Forgive me, I am not used being served so."

The confusion on the man's face became shock and disbelief. "A.......s-servant.......my lady?" he managed to stutter. 

She nodded and shifted on her chair. "Though never one with your skill and talent," she added then. 

The man, still bewildered, bowed to that and then almost ran away to distribute these new and shocking development in the mysterious story that was Irulan. "No doubt that this will be known in a matter of hours," Legolas said, watching him walk away with haste. Then he turned to gaze down at her. "So you have made the beds today?"

"Well......I felt like.......I mean........" said Irulan, failing to find the words why she had felt compelled to do it. 

"You are surprisingly resistant to my attempts of spoiling you, Irulan," he cut in, then, cocking his head in observation as his long fingers caressed the stem of his wine glass. "What must I do to break your defenses, I wonder?"

"Oh leave it be, Legolas!" she huffed then, "It was only a small act of-"

"And now that I think of it, you have placed the wet garments to dry," he said, his eyes narrowing in remembrance. "And folded the towels we have used........and placed your sandals back to the adjoining room!" He returned his gaze to her and she pretended not to see it. "From now on, you will not touch anything that you have used," he said then with a blue fixation. 

"What kind of-"

"It is wrong in many ways, Irulan," he said then. "You unwillingly offend the staff by doing so. They feel useless." 

Irulan sat in silent thought to that. Finally she looked up and sighed. "I think you are right. So be it," was all she could come up with. Legolas smiled down at her and was about to say something when half a dozen of servants encircled them and began the serving of food, although they had not requested it. Legolas smiled softly and Irulan was amazed by his modest and kind behavior to his staff. 

"They already know," he whispered into her ear then, as the servants almost drowned the couple in compliments and food. 

Irulan's head snapped up in shock. "But it's only been a few minutes," she managed to whisper back.

"I told you that word travels fast in the castle," he chuckled. His face, shrouded in joy, then instantly froze in irritation when he heard Lord Haldir's voice right beside him.

"Lady Irulan! Thank the Valar that you are better!" 

"Of course. I am rested," she said as he glided next to her and not waiting for an invitation gracefully sat on the chair opposite of her. Only then did he fix eyes with the Prince and grinned an almost feral grin to the other's annoyed look.  

"Well then," he said, not turning his eyes from him, "we can continue that wonderful conversation we were having about you and your visit to Lothlorien."

She was just about to answer when another voice rang beside her. "Dernhelm sends his greetings and congratulations." All three turned around to see Eowyn approaching with a blue gown. Irulan had always known that Eowyn was beautiful even underneath all that dirt and ruggedness. But in a gown.....she was simply beyond words. She grinned a similar grin to Haldir then, "Oh don't look like that! He insisted that I deliver the message."

She arrived at the table and bowing slightly to the Prince (though it was very odd for a woman to bow) and then resumed to sit on the chair next to Haldir's, across the Prince. It was only then that she turned to see the blonde elf staring at her with shameless looks. So naturally she stared right back for several moments. Irulan glanced at Legolas, who glanced back at her. Then he cleared his throat, to which Haldir finally seemed to wake up. "Lord Haldir of the Lothlorien elves," the Prince of Ithilien said, then with a look at the woman added "Lady Eowyn of Ithilien."

"Is that so?" said Haldir with a voice that betrayed easily that he was desperately trying to find something else to say, but failing at it. "I was certain that she was not an ordinary woman, but a divine being." Eowyn smiled at that and Haldir's mouth almost dropped open at her charm when she did so. "Forgive me for......staring," he said then, "It is just.........the ladies of Ithilien are truly a majestic sight," he finished, still sounding dazed. 

"I would not know," Eowyn said slyly, "for I am no lady."

Haldir laughed a beautiful laugh at that. "Oh I can see that you are far more than that, Eowyn," he said, leaving her title out on purpose. 

Eowyn glanced at an amused Irulan and Legolas. "You are just my kind of man, Haldir," she said with bold amusement, as she broke into laughter herself and Haldir joined her. 

Irulan watched in amazement how Haldir very efficiently fell for Eowyn right in front of her eyes as the minutes passed. She felt Legolas' hand on hers, gently squeezing it and looked up to his smile. "Haldir will regret everything he ever said in disapproval of Ithilien," he whispered to her ear, and he chuckled. 

"I think he will regret many things," she whispered back to that and they both laughed softly with childish glee as their table was surrounded by the familiar faces of other guests, joining them for the leisure dinner at the last day of the Ball. Their friends observed the couple of Irulan and Legolas in deep conversation, as they whispered and chuckled and laughed softly and as Legolas kissed her cheek or brushed his fingers on her cheekbones or as Irulan played with strands of his hair. Everything else seemed to be forgotten to them. Though the reality of the world would come crashing back before the night was over. For the signs of a mighty storm approaching were sizzling in the very air, as a sinister peacefulness dulled them all to the realization of its coming.


	28. We All Want What We Can Not Have

"...and then she grabbed the pitcher, leisurely strolled back to him and…emptied the whole thing on his head!" Loud laughter erupted at the table.

"Amazing!"

"There's more, Haldir," said Eowyn, as she tried to speak between the laughter, "The best part is that she actually...she asked him..." Irulan gave her an irritated look, hoping that Eowyn would actually choke on her own laughter, but of course she had no such luck. "…she asked him if he wanted some more!" finished Eowyn with a loud roar as the table joined her and Irulan moaned with disappointment, short of slapping her forehead with desperation. She gave Legolas, who was chuckling beside her, a threatening look, but the elf only smiled gloriously in return. 

"I suppose that is enough, Eowyn," she said between clenched teeth once the laughter had died down a little. 

The blonde woman, who was smacking Lord Haldir's shoulder (while the elf watched her with adoration), turned her grin to her friend. "Aw come on, Irulan. History should know what a feisty woman you are!"

"Indeed Lady Irulan! I would deem such telling a compliment!" guwaffed Gimli, starting another series of chuckling. He winked to Irulan's dry expression. "You would be a fine dwarven queen. The Prince is lucky indeed!"

"I certainly am," replied Legolas with a graceful nod. "Such a...passionate...character was desperately needed in the rule of Ithilien."

"You should be defending me, Legolas!" she said with shock.

"But I am, my love!" was the reply, shrouded in mock innocence to which Eowyn and Haldir laughed only louder. 

"Ah, dangerous women!" sighed the dwarf, "How they tug at our hearts!" He was momentarily lost in some old memory of his own when Arwen spoke with amusement and broke his daze:

"How lucky that no such woman is in this company now." Eowyn and Irulan grinned to that, followed by the rest. 

"It is my observation that ALL women are dangerous. Especially the beautiful ones. And I must say that we are blessed with the company of their finest samples today," said Aragorn, smiling broadly at Arwen as the princess raised her goblet in reply. 

"Indeed," grinned Gandalf, sending a puff of smoke from his mouth as he observed the three ladies and their relevant suitors with narrowed eyes. 

"Ah beauty!" huffed Eowyn, waving her hand, "who cares about beauty! It's wits that matter."

"And you have both," was Haldir's soft comment. 

"Sssssshhhhhh!" Eowyn placed a finger on her lips. "Don't tell anyone, Lord Haldir!" she whispered. "It's a secret." 

"As you wish," he whispered back. 

His open adoration towards the blonde woman forced once again Irulan and Legolas to glanced at each other, then roll their eyes in perfect unison. Irulan could not keep from laughing at the elf's expression. "You should not roll your eyes, Legolas. It looks odd on you," she chuckled with a low voice.

"Another virtue reserved only to humans, I'm afraid," he sighed and Irulan giggled with delight. 

"So what will the king and queen of Ithilien do?" rang Elrond's serious voice just then. 

"You mean beyond the bedchamber?" intervened Eowyn and Haldir boomed with laughter, clasping her on the shoulder. Irulan grew dark crimson, shooting a very nasty look at Eowyn. 

Legolas chuckled softly, gliding his fingers over her cheek, until she smacked it away with anger and he leaned in to whisper "You have a very unusual friend, Irulan."

"I am very aware of that, thank you," was her frosty reply. Eowyn grinned at her. "But 'embarrassing' would be MY pick of words!"

"So tell us, Prince Legolas!" Gandalf mused. 

"It is really a question Irulan should answer. It is her wish that matters."

"I...I don't know," she stammered when all eyes turned to her with expectation. 

"Sure you do," Gandalf said softly. "Have you not told me about your desire to travel?"

Irulan smiled a broken smile. "Yes. I wished to see Middle Earth," was the late and slow statement. 

"Why not start with Lothlorien, then?" said Haldir, raising his perfect eyebrows with delight. 

"Or Rivendell?" was Elrond's statement.

"Not while there is the Kingdom of the Glittering Caves!" barked Gimli and banged his fist on the table, sending the cutlery flying. AGAIN!

Irulan was about to thank them for their kindness and then add that they most probably would not have the time to do such things and that these sort of plans would remain as dreams, when Legolas placed his hand on hers and said "We will feel honored to visit each of you. But we will have a lot to do for a while. Please do not feel offended if we can not oblige that wish immediately." Irulan took a deep breath as she observed the protests ringing around the table. 'I will be here for a LONG time, no doubt,' she thought with a tinge of dismay. 

"At least YOU should come, Eowyn!" said Haldir with something that could only be described as elven whining. 

"You are inviting me to Lothlorien?" was Eowyn's amazed reply.

"I certainly am! The Mallorn trees are in bloom!"

"As is love!" boomed Gimli and the whole table broke into laughter again while Haldir, who should be embarrassed, but had lost all sentiments of shame quite early in his life, grinned openly to Eowyn and she grinned back in similar shamelessness. Irulan and Legolas rolled their eyes to each other again. 

"I might actually consider," Eowyn mused, careless about the rest of the company. 

"Why not come and visit?" Haldir shrugged with innocence. "No one will force you to stay if you do not want to!"

"Be VERY careful when someone says that, Eowyn," murmured Irulan then and Legolas chuckled with devious delight. 

"Ah...I can already imagine what the forest strolls under the magnificent crimson flowers of the Mallorn trees will do to Lord Haldir!" the Prince said with a sly grin. "That is how it all begins, is it not, Irulan?"

"Oh yes," was Irulan's equally sly addition. 

"I am certain that Lord Haldir will prove to be tougher than me, though." He turned to look down at her. "I was lost from the very first day," he whispered as he fixed his blue gaze on her and smiled a moment later at her pinkish color. 

"Is it true that Irulan ran into Captain Boromir in the city?" asked Eowyn. "That is how you met, right?"

"It is true," said the Legolas with delight. "Though I believe that it was the other way around," he laughed softly. 

"How strange a way to meet," mused Arwen. 

"A doing of the Valar no doubt," the Prince replied. 

"And then you met with her in the forest?" Eowyn continued prodding on. 

"Yes. She was generous enough to join me. Though it must have been very demanding on her."

"All this time, we had absolutely NO clue!" exclaimed the blonde girl. "And I suppose if not for this Ball, we still wouldn't have found out about it!"

"Irulan was destined to be queen. No matter what the circumstances, the story would end the same," was his soft reply. "She is the best thing that has happened to me. The throne of Ithilien is certainly not worthy enough a gift for her."

Irulan's eyes met with the blue gaze of Aragorn and the man clenched his jaws, turning his gaze to the plate in front of him as the shadow of their common deal swept over them once more. She swallowed hard and jumped to her feet. A wave of surprise ran through the company at that sudden action. "I think we should continue with the tour, Legolas!" she said hastily as that damnable shame began to rise in her once more. 

Legolas, caught off-guard by her sudden rising, slowly stood up and the whole table joined them, bowing to the leaving couple. 

"Well…we all know who will be making decisions from now on!" murmured Haldir in amazement as he watched Legolas follow Irulan, his figure betraying slight anxiety. 

Eowyn chuckled with amusement while they both sank down to their seats again. He turned to look at her, feeling utterly swept away by the sound of her laughter alone. "It shall never be like that with me!" he said with mock anger and to everyone's astonishment pounded his fist on the table. Eowyn laughed even harder at that and the priceless expression of pure surprise on Gimli's face as his cutlery danced and sang in front of to the most irritating melody. 

"Is that a challenge, Haldir?" she drawled finally, with wicked amusement.

He shrugged with pretense indifference. "Dare to take it?" 

"Remember that you sealed your doom with your own tongue, Haldir!" Eowyn said then, crossing her arms on her chest and cocking her eyebrow in a most peculiar manner. 

"Alas, so I did," he whispered in awe.  Her presence brought such surprising and utter joy! He shook his head, smiling with disbelief at  his own sentiments. "So I did."

***

"Has something happened, Irulan?"

"No! Nothing happened, Legolas. I just wanted to...leave, that's all."

He remained silent for a moment as they walked side by side through an array of trees and pools towards the southern end of the palace, where the wine cellars lay. "You are not hiding anything from me, are you?" he said then, still unsure about her reactions. 

Irulan swallowed hard and slowed her pace. "Like what?" was her late and alarmed whisper. 

Legolas smiled brightly and shrugged his shoulders. He regarded her another moment, then added: "Is it the publicity? Does it make you uncomfortable?" 

She sighed, now a bit frustrated. "I told you that we should have kept it a secret. We should have stayed right there in the forest! But no, you wouldn't listen, of course!"

"No I would not!" intervened Legolas and Irulan, noticing the cold edge in his voice, swallowed again and slowly released the arms she had crossed on her chest. "You belong here. With me," Legolas continued, losing nothing from his determination but softening his tone a little. "What other future was there for us?" She looked away in fury. "Should we have gone on meeting every night, like fugitives? Or perhaps I could have joined you in that dreadful room of yours, where you would be forced to live till the end of your days! And I suppose I should have remained blind to your state and the roughness of your life!"

"Perhaps you should have, Legolas," was her tired sigh of a reply. 

"You know that such indifference would be impossible for me," he said with urgency and cupped her chin to make her look up. "If our positions were reversed, would you be able to do it?" Irulan only pursed her lips in reply. He took a deep breath and tried to swat away his temper. Anyone else, yes, but he would never treat Irulan roughly. "Exactly my sentiments," he finished with a small smile. 

"Legolas...there is something you need to know," she mumbled then, biting her lower lip. She would just tell him. She should. Now. When everything was going towards this...damn cliff. She should tell him about the deal. About the lies and deceit. About his trio of friends and herself.

"Say it then," he whispered as his fingers traced her lips, his eyes fixed on hers. 

Irulan, momentarily distracted by that, closed her eyes to gather the right words for the occasion. "You need to kn-" She was silenced by his kiss. The embers of passion woke up in her. He leaned in and deepened the kiss and Irulan simply could not resist, very much like she could not resist breathing. It was beyond her. His fingers dug into her hair as his tongue rendered he speechless. 

He drew back a moment later and she tried very, very hard to remember what she had been saying before the kiss. It felt like trying to remember another lifetime. "Yes?" Legolas whispered, drawing her closer to himself. 

"I was...saying," swallowed Irulan, concentration evading her against all effort. 

The elf kissed her again, bolder than the first time. A distant part of him told him to listen. They had been talking, had they not? He should listen. But…he couldn't! He would listen later. Right now, he was too busy being happy. He could do the listening part later. She broke free, her eyelids fluttering open and her hand pressing against his chest. "What are you-"

"Forget about it," whispered Legolas and kissed her again, deeper yet. "Tell me later," he said as his right hand traveled through her hair and finally folded into his other hand to capture her effectively in his embrace. 

"But-"

"Later, Irulan," he chuckled and kissed her again. And again. He placed soft kisses on her cheek as he felt her trying to clear her mind instead of relaxing and letting go. "I still have to teach you to let go," he sighed into her ear. 

"This is important," she said with a small voice, though she could not really remember what it was that was so important. 

Legolas sighed, stroking her back and kissing her neckline. "Is it about the wedding tomorrow?"

"N-not really," she managed to whisper.

"Is it about your gown? Or someone we forgot to invite? Or about the arrangement?" he said in between kisses. 

"No."

"Then it is not important at this moment." He tightened the embrace. Irulan sighed and, having not too much of an option, decided to relax and make the best of the moment. 

Barely had she finished that thought when she felt Legolas tense. "What is it?" she said, trying to return to the present. 

"Nothing," was the gentle reply. "Someone is coming."

At that news she instantly remembered everything forgotten in the past minutes and swiftly and very effectively pushed herself away, breaking the embrace. Legolas remained shocked by the fluidity of that motion and raising his eyebrows, locked eyes with her. "It is not the Dark Lord, Irulan," he said, his lips betraying a suppressed smile. 

She just gave him a glare and smoothed her skirts, stepping even further away. The elf smiled with both amusement and defeat then, crossing his arms on his chest as his eyes glided over her new and rose colored gown. He thought that she looked even more marvelous in this color than the turquoise. Or perhaps white was the best. After a quick inner debate, he gave up on the decision. Irulan simply looked breath-taking in every garment and every color. Regaining his concentration, he turned to the direction of the entrance to the garden. A servant marched in with long strides. Upon spotting them he hastily ran up to the Prince and bowed first to him, then to Irulan. An audible gulp was followed by a hearty yelp: "Sire! Forgive me for interrupting!"

"You were not interrupting anything," was Irulan's anxious intervention. Both men turned to look at her, their faces shrouded in surprise. She pursed her lips and decided to return to the task of smoothing her skirts. 

"Yes?" Legolas nudged the sservant who seemed to have forgotten his purpose. 

"Oh!" After a couple more bows, he continued: "Bristled Berry, Sire. From the mountainous regions of the Land of Rohan!" He blinked and remembering that he had just forgotten the introduction, hastily added "The fruit you inquired about." 

The Prince, having recognized the man and now pleasantly surprised by this news, smiled brightly and turned to a Irulan who stood watching the exchanged with open confusion on her face. "Yes, of course. There it is, Irulan. You like Bristled Berries from Rohan." Her only response to that was another string of disbelieving looks. 

"They grow in cracks and crevices of rocks, Prince Legolas! At steep altitudes! Emmmm..." the man unconsciously waved his arms in an effort to remember the rest of the information he had managed to gather from the cooks, the gardeners, travelers and the farmers in the past day. "...they give fruit in summer time, which fruit can be eaten as a berry or, together with Thistle root, turned into a local wine. The wine is said to be very sharp and strong...and...and..." He went on and on as Irulan glanced at Legolas in amazement and he looked back with a barely suppressed grin. She shook her head in disbelief and tried to listen to the many details about the history and mythology and genealogy of the berry. After what seemed like far too long, the man bowed again and with the air of a hero having accomplished his mission, asked for permission to leave. Granted that permission he strode away in a far calmer and more confident way, happy that he could lay down this heavy burden and finally sleep!

When he was out of earshot, Legolas dared to chuckle at her expression and she jumped slightly. "You sure have strange people in this castle," was her amazed statement. 

"VERY dedicated would be my pick of words," he replied, gazing down at her with amusement. He stepped closer. "And now that we know exactly what kind of berry you like, Irulan, we can continue doing what we were doing before the interruption," he added with a suggestive voice. 

"Legolas!" she growled with a warning tone. "I think we should go inside now."

"Nonsense," he said playfully and advanced her while Irulan stepped further back, "I like it here. It is...secluded."

She turned around and hastily walked towards the entrance. "Too secluded, perhaps." She felt Legolas catching up with her and embracing her waist as he paced along. 

"There is something very important we forgot to discuss," he whispered, leaning into her ear. 

Irulan tried to walk faster to evade it, but his grip on her prevented it. "What is that?" she said then, pursing her lips. 

"Where will we spend our honeymoon?" He placed a warm kiss on her cheek. Irulan blushed slightly. At the same time a part of her mocked how foolish it was to blush now, since she had been quite intimate with Legolas. The elf, expecting her to do exactly that, laughed softly, gliding the fingers of his other hand over her pinkish cheek. 

"Stop it, Legolas!"

"I was thinking," he said with a low voice, pulling her even closer while Irulan had to pay real attention so that her skirts would not trip and fall over her long skirts. "Let us go to all Seven Regions and Nine Tribes and have a honeymoon in each," he whispered, very unaffected by her attempts to free herself. "We would not want to offend anyone by preferring another now, would we? It seems necessary and inevitable," he sighed with mock desperation. 

"Legolas, have the decency to feel embarrassed every now and then, will you!" she seethed between clenched teeth.

"Nay. I leave that to you. You do it so beautifully," he laughed softly and kissed her cheek again as they walked closer to the entrance of a crowded hall. Irulan blushed deeper and tried to push him off with greater strength, to no effect. She felt those infamous looks on her again, and alas, who could blame them? She would be STARING at anyone in this state, herself!

Failing to detach herself, she took a deep breath and suddenly stopped, a bemused Legolas coming to halt with her. "Very well," she said and turned to look up at him. She took a moment to still her breath from the fast pace and used it to gently run her hand over his hand that was holding her waist. "I must admit, Legolas," she drawlede as she observed surprise washing over his features, "it seems the perfect idea! One honeymoon with you is certainly not enough." She took his hand in hers and kissed his palm. 

Legolas was so entranced by that action that it took him several moments to reply. "Precisely," he managed to whisper as his other hand traveled to her cheek.

"But," huffed Irulan, a slight pout on her lips as her gaze wandered up to the ceiling, "how very...cruel...that I have to…REFUSE!" With that, she snatched her hand back and clasping both behind her, took two steps away from him. "Actually how about NO honeymoon at all, dear Prince?!" she grinned with victory at the pure surprises on his face and barely suppressed the desire to stick her tongue out. 

"Why you little fox," he said in amazement as Irulan grinned broader and walked backwards to the crowded hall. 

"Go on. Go to your honeymoon, Prince," she countered with a low voice "I'll be right here if you need me." With that, and barely keeping herself from screeching with childish glee, she turned around and sprinted into the ballroom with Legolas following at her heels. Careless about how very foolish and immature a state they were in (and by the looks of it, neither did Legolas care) she walked in such haste that she almost tripped over her gown and only regained her balance by bumping into someone. "Oh, forgive me!" she laughed, caught up in the thrill of the chase, "I am sor-"

"Be more careful!" cut in Hetaire. 

The universe stood still as their eyes locked with shock and disbelief on both faces. 

***

"Irulan!" yelped the red headed woman in pure surprise. Irulan flinched at that tone, the voice bringing back everything she had forgotten in the last three days. She gulped and immediately took a step back, her back running into Legolas who had just arrived to the scene. Meanwhile the remaining party of Vessun, Boromir and Eomer froze in mid-action and the same shock drained their color as well. "It is you!" Hetaire hissed, her eyes traveling from toe to head, then back. She advanced her step sister and Irulan so forcefully dug herself into Legolas' chest that the Prince was forced to step back with her. "You...you..." Hetaire stammered in furious disbelief, but was cut off by another voice: 

"You witch!" exclaimed Vessun suddenly, freeing herself from Eomer's grip and moving to stand beside her sister, her eyes speaking of perfect hate. "So you found another way to-"

"I suggest you take that back," Legolas cut in. The sisters looked up and remained agape at the sight of the Prince standing behind Irulan. They blinked several times, in no state to take anything back as Legolas placed his hands on Irulan's shoulders and gently tried to pry her off himself. The woman, completely oblivious to his efforts, continued trying to step away from the scene. After a short, silent struggle Legolas squeezed her shoulders and Irulan finally woke up to that. She became stock still and the Prince returned his frosty gaze to the women frozen in utter shock. 

Her reaction as well as the presence of Boromir and Eomer showed without doubt that these were her infamous stepsisters. "Haven't you heard me?" he growled and everyone present swallowed softly at the warning ringing in it. 

Hetaire and Vessun instantly fell on their knees in a deep curtsy and a moment later rose on shaking legs. Their faces had gained a distinctive color. "Your Highness," they stammered, then remained silent, too shocked to find the words. 

A silence set in. Legolas exchanged glanced with the two captains who looked far more frightened than he had seen them even in fierce battle situations. He took a deep breath. He had hoped for this encounter. Ever since he had visited that terrible, dark chamber that was Irulan's room, had he wished to meet the monsters who had forced such a life upon her. His wish, it seems, had come true. Justice was to be served this night. His train of thought was cut off when he felt her swaying under his grip. "Irulan, are you ill?" he said in alarm as he turned her towards himself. She looked as white as snow and that damnable phobia fluttered in his heart again at that sight. 

"Irulan?!" yelped Hetaire, astounded by the fact that His Majesty actually knew her. Not only did he know her, he had actually used her first name only! A distant echo of that name woke in her then and she remembered vaguely hearing rumors about a lady with a similar name for whom the Prince seemed to have fallen. But...certainly that lady could not be Irulan, her accursed stepsister! 

Hetaire's tone of voice sent another wave of fear through Irulan who instantly tried to turn around and walk away. Unfortunate for her, Legolas was faster. He embraced her waist with a steely grip and the strength of his action left no room for struggle. He felt her grow limp with defeat in his embrace and it pierced his heart to see her so. Fury replaced sorrow and the Prince locked his fiery gaze on the sisters once again. 

But…suddenly he noticed a strange fact. 

"Why are you wearing Irulan's gown?" he said with deep confusion as his gaze wandered over the cream colored gown he had had prepared for Irulan. 

With that, the house of cards began a gentle, beautiful and irreversible collapse.

***

"Y-your Highness," began Hetaire with a very cautious voice, shaking like a leaf. She swallowed to overcome the dryness in her throat and tried again. "The gowns...we did not know...we were told...they were made in the palace. You see...we had no way of knowing..."

Legolas cut her off, stepping closer as both sisters instantly broke into another curtsy. "I have no time for this! Explain yourself right away!" he commanded with a tone of voice that made people surrounding them hastily walk away and clear their close quarters. 

"M-majesty," Vessun tried this time with a shaky breath, "We took them from our sister."

"So you have," was his furious hiss. Boromir and Eomer exchanged alarmed glances, but having no other option, remained rooted and unmoving. "NOW I understand," he continued, his embrace on Irulan growing unconsciously stronger. 

"We thought she had stolen them!" Vessun said hastily. "We had no way of knowing-…"

"This gown," Legolas seethed, moving towards Hetaire as the woman inched back, "was MY gift to Irulan! And you dared to take it?!"

The women gulped audibly and Hetaire decided to take over: "We didn't know! We swear it, Prince Legolas!

"DO NOT USE MY NAME!" rang his shout and everyone jumped with the unexpected force of it. 

"Forgive us! Forgive us!" the women whispered, curtsying vehemently. 

Irulan blanched further and swayed again and the Prince, who was about to take another step towards the sisters, decided against it. 

"We didn't know!" croaked Hetaire once again. "Harkey told us the gowns were made in the palace! He said he was certain, Sire! So we assumed-…"

"Gowns?" cut in the Prince, the edge of confusion returning to his voice. If he had seen Boromir and Eomer at that moment, he would have wondered if orcs had invaded the ballroom, since the expression on their faces could only meaning something of that nature. But as it was, he was too focused on the women. 

"Yes. The gowns, Sire."

Legolas remained silent for a moment. To everyone, it seemed like an eternity. "How many gowns are we talking about here?" was his final and slow question. 

"All three, Sire. We took all three," whispered Vessun and broke into sobs. 

The elf just regarded her with cold and unseeing eyes. He looked down at Irulan, who stood as still as a statue. Suddenly he wondered if he should take her to the healers first. She didn't look well at all. But...THREE gowns? Made in the palace? His brain turned the information over and over again and for someone with his intellect, not coming up with an explanation was extremely strange. "I gave her only this one," he said, trying to analyze the situation and failing. "Who in the palace would-..."

"I did, Sire," Eomer intervened and all eyes turned to him. All except Irulan. 

That did nothing to lift his confusion and the Prince locked eyes with the blonde captain for long moments. "You prepared gowns for Irulan?" was his final, careful question. 

"Aye. I did," he looked up at Boromir and the other just stared back in silent alarm and pleading in an effort to stop Eomer from continuing. 

"Wh...how?" said Hetaire, astonished at the turn of events. 

"I did. Allow me to explain in privacy. It was all my idea," Eomer finished, pursing his lips. 

"Very well," began Legolas, and was about to continue his torture on the sisters, when Irulan spoke up:

"No. That is not true." She raised her head and stared into Eomer's eyes. "No need for secrets any longer, Captain. It was my idea. And all my fault." 

"No," the blonde man objected in alarm. "Lady Irulan, please do not interfere!"

Irulan waved her arm to silence him. "Captain! No more lies. I am tired."

"Lies?" Legolas said in astonishment and if he was confused before, he was beyond confusion now. 

"That's all she has, Sire!" yelped Vessun in between sobs. "She is a liar!"

Irulan bit her lower lip and looked away. As stupid as it was, she suddenly thought 'Well there goes my marriage. At least I don't have to worry about evading it, any longer.' Now Legolas would push her away and command her with that horrible tone to explain. Then she would and no doubt, he would listen with disgust on his face. Then he would order her to be thrown out of the palace and perhaps even out of Ithilien. And then Irulan could sit and think about the sense of humor of the Valar. 

Things did not happen exactly in that fashion. 

She felt Legolas taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose. And just when she expected the shove and the shout, he spoke with a low and dangerous voice: "You will ask for Lady Irulan's forgiveness. This very moment. And I hope she is more tolerant than me and gives it to you. Otherwise my captains shall take you to the palace prison immediately."

Irulan very slowly dared to look up at Legolas but he remained fixed on the equally astounded pair of women. She glanced at the captains but they, too, seemed not too much wiser than herself. A short silence followed. Then the Prince shouted "Speak!" and the women broke into curtsy, begging for apology in so many words and ways, that Irulan listened to it for several moments before she understood what was going on. 

"Do you grant it, my love?" Legolas said, gazing down at her and even though his voice was perfectly calm, she could easily enough see the whirl of emotions underneath. 

"I...of course. I do," she said slowly. 

"Then their life is spared. But their presence in this palace is over-done. Captains, remove these...women from my home."

Boromir and Eomer glanced at each other and even under these circumstances could not help grinning with delight before each grabbed one of the sister's arm and pushed them out with long strides while the women looked too dazed to realize that they were being shoved out of the castle in the most inappropriate manner possible. 

Irulan looked after them for a long time as her past was dragged out of the castle in a fashion that would probably have amused her before. Now it only felt...sad. 'Everything is over,' she thought in amazement. 'Everything ended as suddenly as it began.'

"Are you well, Irulan?" Legolas said softly and she flinched despite herself. He was supposed to shout, damn it!

"I...I need to get some fresh air," she managed to stammer after a long silence. 

"Right away," he whispered and forced the panic in him to recede. He guided her by the waist to a less crowded garden. Not to mention, one that was closer to the House of Healers. He sat her by a fountain and dipping his hand in the water, began to wipe her cheeks. To his utter dismay, she started to sob and never having seen her cry so openly before, the elf froze in mid-action. "Irulan," he began softly, unable to keep the alarm off his voice, "let us go to the healers. You do not look well. I promise I will not let them-..."

"No Legolas," she managed to say and sobbed harder as his heart sank with desperation. "I...am...so sorry," she cried in between sobs, "I really am!"

"Ssssshhh," Legolas said, barely keeping himself from wiping some water on his own cheeks. He was confused about the whole incident and he certainly would be asking some questions later. But for now, he only wanted to calm down Irulan. "Do not talk. It is behind you now. They will never-..."

"Damn true it is!" she yelped then. "EVERYTHING is over."

"Calm down, my love," he tried again, wiping her cheeks and scanning the garden with frustration to find a servant to send to a healer and bring her back with him. 

Suddenly she caught his wrist and he remained locked to her gaze. "Legolas, listen to me," she said finally with a very low voice as he watched silent tears rolling down her cheeks with increasing alarm. "Listen well, for I don't think that I will find it in me to repeat." He nodded, unable to do anything else. "The day after I met you...in the forest...your friends came to me."

Legolas' eyes widened. "You mean..."

"I mean Captain Eomer and Boromir and..." she sighed, knowing that she had no other option, and added "and Advisor Aragorn found me. And...well..." 

Irulan told him everything. Everything, except the identity of Dernhelm and the whole act of magic with Gandalf. That had nothing to do with the deal. And it hadn't been her idea. SHE was confessing here, no need to drag others into the plot. Legolas listened with astonishment, anger, fury, amazement, disbelief, shock and sadness. Irulan spoke with the belief that it would be her last speech with Legolas. And she could not help crying throughout the confession, thereby probably destroying her image in his eyes for good. She finished and then remained looking at him. 'All right, this is certainly the part he throws me out,' she thought. She waited some more. Then some more. Finally, unable to stand his gaze any longer and feeling extremely close to fainting, said "I will leave now. I...can find my own way out."

She stood up and feeling herself swaying, hastily placed her feet slightly apart for better balance. Legolas' arm shot out to steady her, but she stepped back. "No, I'm fine," she said, looking away. 

He pursed his lips and clasped his hands behind him. "So you have come as a result of a deal," he said slowly, his feelings soaring in him like a wild river. If not for his fine upbringing, he would have certainly shown that anxiety. But for now he managed to remain calm from the outside – although a pain of unbelievable intensity cut him sharply from the inside. 

Irulan sighed deeply. "What's the point in believing me now?" she said with a little anger. "I have lied to you. Whatever I say now is worthless."

"You have not lied," he said then and her head snapped around to look at him. 

"Haven't you been listening?" she said with temper.

"You have not lied," he repeated with more determination. "You did not tell me the truth."

"Exactly!" A moment later she added "Yes! W-what...Same thing!"

"It is not the same thing," the Prince said then, and Irulan looked away in frustration again. 

"Whatever."

"Answer the question, Irulan," was his soft demand. 

"What question?" Irulan massaged her face, trying very hard not to faint. 

"Have you come because of the deal?"

She looked at him for a long moment. "No," was the final reply. "I tried not to come at all. I did! But you said you would cancel the Ball and well then you...you convinced me," she finished with haste, embarrassed to bring up the day of the thunderstorm at a time like this. 

"Then why did you come?" he said after another long silence. 

"I came..." she took a deep breath and looked away, "I came because I promised you." She bit her lower lip and looked towards the entrance that seemed to have receded to the end of some long, dark tunnel. "It does not matter any longer," she mumbled, stepping towards it and praying to the Valar that she would not fall on her face. 

"It matters to me!" the Prince said with a commanding tone and she remained glued to her ground. 

Irulan almost laughed at her state. 'Of course!' she thought with something like sick amusement. 'Of course! I should not talk to the Prince in that manner any longer!' She turned to face him (slowly, so she would not trip over herself) and looked into his eyes. They were as cold as stone. "Forgive me," was her whisper before she bowed to a curtsy. However the action did horrible things to her balance and she quickly placed her hand on the stone below to keep from tipping over. 

"What are you doing?!" Legolas said with perfect horror. She opened her mouth to reply but felt herself instantly grabbed by the arm and jerked upright so fast that she would have surely fallen on her face if the elf wasn't still holding her. "We are going to the healers this instant!" he hissed and tried to pick her up, but Irulan stepped back before he could succeed. 

"No need! I am well Your Highness!" she struggled to wiggle out of his grasp. 

He froze with drastic speed and she halted her efforts, feeling afraid for no apparent reason. Her fear only doubled when she looked up at his face. "What did you just say?" he whispered and Irulan audibly gulped at the dare in his tone. 

"I..."

"NEVER call me that again! Do you hear me? Never!" he thundered and Irulan began to tremble with shock at his expression. The garden was empty moments later, as if it had never been occupied by anyone else but the two. 

"Sorry," she managed and Legolas instantly changed into a different man. This time he managed to pick her up and began to walk with determined steps. 

"There! You are doing it again!" he seethed. "You are making me...so...furious! And angry! And frustrated! To the point when I begin to act like this to you! To the point I make you ill, Irulan!"

"W-what are you...stop please."

"No! We are going to the healers. Now! No more objections. And Irulan, I mean it - do not call me by some foolish title again. I...react to it."

"Lego-" she stopped herself, then continued "Look, please let me down. I want to go home."

Legolas turned to lock eyes with her. "You ARE home, Irulan," was the soft reply that also had a sad edge to it.  

"Let me down," she whined, feeling even more sick by his words. 

"We will talk later. Just...let go. I am here. I'll take care of you."

"They will drug me again!" she yelped, using her last strength to break free. 

"No," he countered, holding her stronger, "I will not let them. Lie still, and I promise not to let them do anything...unbefitting. I promise, Irulan."

The only thing Irulan was absolutely certain of was that she did not understand a single damn thing. And it was her last coherent thought as well. 

***

Legolas was looking out the window of the building towards the darkness. The music of the Ball came up to him in waves of tempting caresses as an old and sad melody echoed, bouncing of the palace walls. How very fitting to his mood! He sighed and let his gaze wander over the forest, as the Moonlight danced on the dense array of trees. 

'It must be rule of the Valar,' he thought with a bitter stab, 'We all want what we can not have.' Everyone, it seemed, was chasing something else. Everyone was burning with a different passion. Everyone was in slumber of a different dream. And while his were adorned with times spent by Irulan's side, walking in the lush shadow of the gardens, speaking heart to heart, hers held only the wish for a solitary freedom. While he wanted nothing more than to love and spoil Irulan and live with the hope of returned sentiments, she cared nothing for love, or for marriage, or bonds. What woke longing in his heart only stirred feelings of constriction and imprisonment in her. 

Had she not told him? Right from the very beginning she had said that she desired no marriage, didn't she? And what had he done? What he had always done – he had sealed his ears and his eyes and had strode on. He had ignored everything and had simply strode on. On and on until she was backed to the corner and forced to agree. Not because she wanted to, but because she was left with no other option. How very much like the Prince of Ithilien that he was! And now he would pay the price of such determinism. He would answer for his crime of greed. 

Legolas sighed again and pursed his lips, pinching the bridge of his nose. He should feel furious, should he not? His best friends lying to him, making up stories, meddling behind his back in his private affairs...oh he should definitely feel furious! Then why the sadness? Why the frustration? Why the self-pity? Why the feeling like he had been betrayed by each and every person he had placed trust in?

The last time Legolas had cried, was so far in his childhood, he barely remembered it. And now, after seemingly an eternity of calm and controlled firmness, he felt the incredible temptation to sink to his knees and cry again. Cry! Like a little child! Instead of sobs, his chuckles rang in the darkened room. "I lost the crown of Ithilien the day she spoke my name," he murmured and laughed softly. "I lost that, too. And what is left?" He sighed, smiling into the darkness. "Only my own, private misery."

As the approaching footsteps rang in the deserted corridor that led to the chamber in the high and deserted tower, he knew instantly that Aragorn was coming. No other would look for him here. And no other would have the heart or the courage to come to him now. Legolas smiled bitterly as he detected the haste of the footfalls, seeing an image of the Chief Advisor who was barely keeping himself from breaking into a run. Moments later the door opened with a squeak and, after a short hesitation, closed again. 

The Prince did not turn his back and Aragorn remained rooted in the darkness, observing his motionless figure pasted against the blue moonlight. The first thing he felt was relief. He had finally found Legolas! If this room too had been empty, Aragorn was sure that he would panic – and that would have been a first in many, many years. The following feeling was far more sinister and replaced the first one like a dark shadow. It was a combination of every gloomy sentiment – a tinge of fear, a drop of shame, a spoonful of regret, a cup of alarm and a sprinkle of self-loathing. 

A silent minute passed between the two old friends and Aragorn marveled at how they had seemed to have drifted apart in a matter of days. A cold distance hung between them – a thick curtain. And it was his own doing. He himself had pulled that curtain the day he had agreed to that cursed deal. Against his inner voice! Against his loyalty to the Prince! Against his bond to his friend. A payment was only fair. 

"What is it, Aragorn?" Legolas said finally with a soft voice, still not moving. 

The other man swallowed softly. This was obviously going to be far more painful. He would have preferred a furious Legolas much more. He took a deep breath and hoped for the support of the Valar. "I have come to see if you have given up the fight, Sire."

Legolas smiled dryly, still facing the window. He felt no desire to speak. And yet, the words fell from his mouth: "The fight is over, Aragorn. My battles are behind me now."

Aragorn closed his eyes and cursed silently. Then continued with a blank voice: "Is she not worthy of further effort?"

Legolas felt the momentary flash of anger, but suppressed it, knowing that this sort of control loss was exactly what the Chief Advisor was aiming at. "She is worthy of everything. And that is exactly what she will get," he snapped. 

"Legolas," came his soft and hesitant reply, "do not make the mistakes that I have made."

"Why, my _friend_," the elf mused then and finally turned to face the Chief Advisor with a bitter smile as he rolled the word on his tongue, "you almost sound concerned for me."

Aragorn swallowed hard and against all his fear, approached the elf as the other did not divert his unnerving gaze. "I will NOT play that game, Legolas," he hissed as he felt the stirrings of anger within him and thanked the Valar for that feeling. It gave him something to hold on to. 

"Why not? You are rather good at games."

It was Aragorn's turn to pinch his nose with frustration. "I am only human, Legolas," he mumbled with a tired voice. He looked up into the blue eyes and continued: "Yes, I made a mistake. And never have I regretted any of my mistakes with such resentment." Another moment of silent staring passed. "And you must believe me when I say that I would give ANYTHING to take it back!"

The elf's eyes lingered on him for a few moments, then glazed with disinterest before the turned his back to Aragorn once more. "Leave me alone, Aragorn," was all he said. 

The Ranger ignored his demand. "And that is why exactly I urge you...no - I BEG you not to repeat it!" he hissed, taking another step towards his friend. 

"Ask nothing of me!" was the sharp reply. Legolas turned his profile to him as he refrained from giving in to anger. But it was getting hard, indeed. 

"What do you want, Legolas? Do you want me to kneel down and beg? I shall do so. Do you want me to go around and tell everyone of my revolting deed? That I have betrayed my best friend? I shall do that too." He remained silent for a moment. "Perhaps you want me to leave you, to leave Ithilien?" he said then with a whisper. "I shall do that as well." Legolas did not answer. "I only ask of you to continue this fight. You can NOT stop now!"

The elf turned to him so swiftly, Aragorn felt compelled to take a step back in surprise. But he was glued to his spot by the frosty blue gaze of Legolas. "I can do whatever I WANT! LEAVE! NOW!" 

"NO!"

The Prince pursed his lips and took a step towards the Chief Advisor. Then remained frozen, in another attempt to regain his control. 

"Look at you, Legolas!" hissed Aragorn as his fear seemed diminished in comparison to his shame and his desperation. "Do you know whom you remind me of?" Another step brought him almost nose to nose with the other man. "ME!" he whispered in disgust. "Silly, stupid, coward ME!" He ran his hand through his hair in desperation, his gaze wandering out of the window. "You!" he continued with a low voice, "You, whom I have looked up to, my entire life!" A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. "Ever since that very first day you gave me your own horse as a gift, only because I had thought it to be a beautiful beast - when we were merely ten years old, Legolas, I have admired you. Always. Do you think I chose to be by your side for Ithilien?" He looked up to the perfect mask of elven blankness. "Do you think that I risked my life for a KINGDOM?" Aragorn laughed softly. "Oh no. No, no, no," he chuckled, shaking his head. "No such virtuous man am I, Legolas."

The Prince watched the bitter smile on his lips and felt compelled to listen on, although he should storm out of the room. "I did it for you," the Chief Advisor said then, and never had the elf heard a voice so sad. "To be with you. To protect you." He laughed and waved his hand again. "Ah I know! You need no protection! And Heaven knows that you saved my life far more than I did yours." He chuckled again before he continued with a very Aragorn-like shrug. "But...I knew no other way of repaying you."

A silence set in and Legolas could only endure it for a few moments. Then he just could not stop the question from falling from his lips: "Repaying me?"

Aragorn blinked and woke up from his entrancement to turn and lock eyes with him. "Repay you, yes. For your friendship. For your tolerance. Your generosity and understanding, Legolas. Your patience." His eyes wandered over the features of the Prince that revealed clear confusion and lack of understanding. "My service comes with a price," he added more softly. "And it is not a low one. I am aware of my flaws. Yet...you had the decency to pretend that YOU were NOT. For that, I will be ever grateful."

"What are you talking about?!" protested the Prince finally. "You are an amazing Advisor. An incredible warrior. The best ran-"

"I also happen to be very nosy, manipulating, selfish and irresponsible," was the smooth insertion. 

Legolas remained stupefied for a moment. "Well...," he said then, barely keeping himself from breaking into a smile. 

Aragorn turned to him with raised eyebrows. "Legolas," he seethed with a dangerous tone, "I hope that you mean to object to my statements a moment ago."

The Prince stiffly suppressed the grin and raised his glance towards the window again, clasping his hands behind his back. "To be honest..." he began slowly. 

Aragorn shook his head with irritation. "Thank you very MUCH, Sire!"

The other man just looked back with mock innocence, a part of him still trying to hold on to the anger, but another part of him simply failing to find reason to do so after the words of his friend. "What?" was the soft question. 

"I mean...I know I can be hard to stand at times! But I can't be THAT bad!" 

"Aragorn," sighed Legolas with a tired attitude, "YOU are doing all the talking here. I have not uttered a single word."

"Precisely! Not a single word in my favor or in objection to my...unbefitting words about myself!"

"What unbefitting words, Aragorn?" was the cool and smooth reply and it brought a nasty stare from the Chief Advisor in return. 

Legolas chuckled then, despite the current state of things. He shook his head, gazing into the forest again. Another, but more comfortable silence set in between them once more as both men listened to the new melody sweeping in and over them. 

"I wanted you to be happy," whispered Aragorn, not looking at the other man. "And I swear that it was me who dragged Eomer and Boromir into this. And Irulan and Eowyn, too."

"Do not doubt that I believe you," was the dry reply. "I know very well of your manipulations, Chief Advisor."

"But it was done with the best of intentions!" Aragorn cut in hastily to divert the spotlight from himself once more. "We aimed for your happiness."

"How so?" said the Prince then, his gaze still fixed to the ranger as the other man shrugged. 

"I had observed your interest in Irulan. And well...I thought..." he threw a sidelong glance at his friend's calm expression. "I thought you would enjoy her presence at the Ball. You were being so damn irritating and frustrating!" He added a hasty "Sire."

"Irritating, was I?" 

"To say the least," mumbled Aragorn and Legolas' eyes widened at the words. The ranger continued quickly: "So I thought we should invite her. Only she refused, of course. And believe me when I say that that is an understatement!"

Legolas bit down a grin and crossed his arms on his chest. "I am curious about this exchange."

"Suffice is to say that she was very...stubborn," he said stiffly, and it was obvious that he was doing his best not to say anything rude, though that seemed to be his desire. "Even though I spoke the words of threat with perfect conviction."

"You THREATENED her?"

"We had to! She was incredibly resistant, Legolas!" When the elf just looked back in astonishment, he continued hastily: "And she STILL refused! If not for Chemarit, we would have never succeeded. He was the one who brought up the idea. And I...I agreed," he finished with a whisper. "At the price of her freedom, I agreed. Even though every fiber in my body screamed for me not to. I agreed, thinking that I was doing everyone a favor. How foolish of me!" A moment later he turned to face the Prince once more. "It does not matter. For her reasons changed afterwards, of that I am certain."

"Is that why she asked for your aid in an escape?" the Prince said flatly. 

"Yes! Tell me, who would refuse the crown of Ithilien?" Aragorn countered with steely determination. "Only someone who is ready to sacrifice it for the sake of another. Irulan loves you. She loves you enough to think first of YOU, then of herself. It is not a common thing, Legolas. And, Prince or no, I will say that you are a FOOL if you let it slip by you!" he finished with a hiss. 

Legolas only clenched his jaws and looked away. "Let us not talk any further on the issue," he said finally, his dread almost choking his words. 

"No!"

"Aragorn, it is over," he tried with impatience. "She does not want me. I thought she did. All my fight was because I was convinced that she wanted me, but was afraid to face the consequences. But in that exactly I was mistaken. She does not want me. She wants her freedom. She loves me, no doubt. But she only agreed to be with me because I forced her to."

"That is not true!" shouted Aragorn and Legolas' head snapped up in amazement. "I know it is not!"

"I will NOT put her in a cage!" shouted Legolas back finally. A tense silence set in between them. "Not for Ithilien! Not for herself! And certainly not for my own desire!"

Aragorn looked at him with such sadness and anger, that the elf momentarily felt thrown off-balance. "It is not a cage, Legolas," was the final, slow statement and Legolas thought that there was something utterly different about his expression, then. Something that he had never seen in Aragorn before. Something foreign and almost ethereal. "It is home." The music wandered between them and ironic as it was, Legolas recognized the tunes of an old song, speaking of unending love and devotion. "And who needs a home more than Irulan?"

Legolas took a deep breath and listened to the tune. "Already I feel the pull of it, Aragorn," he whispered finally and watched the advisor's eyes widen with alarm. He chuckled at the fear of his friend and continued with a smile: "Worry not, it is not painful. As a matter of fact..." with that, he cocked his head, his eyes glazing with concentration, "it feels...natural. Like thirst that needs to be quenched. Like anxiety that needs to be stilled. Like worry that needs to be soothed." 

His concentration broke as Aragorn's hand found his arm, squeezing it with harsh strength. "You can not allow this to happen!" he hissed, his eyes speaking of pure fear. 

"I have made my decision," was all Legolas said in reply. 

"*I* will not allow this to happen!" 

The Prince looked at him for a long moment. "You, Aragorn," he said finally, "will make amends for your mistake." The elf's blue gaze was like unbendable steel. "You will learn from your deeds and this time NOT meddle."

"That is impos-.."

"I ask it of you," cut in Legolas coldly. 

"NO!"

"As a friend, Aragorn," was the tired sigh. 

"NO!"

"Very well...as a repayment, then."

"What?!" No, Legolas! I will not sit back and watch you die with Grief!"

"Aragorn!" he commanded finally and Aragorn barely kept himself from snapping to attention at the tone of that remark. "You WILL obey! It is my last wish from you. My ONLY wish. You will show me the kindness of obedience now when I need it more than ever," he finished more softly. 

"I can not," the other man whispered, his hands beginning to tremble. 

The elf watched him with gentle sadness. "Do you cry when autumn shakes the trees, Aragorn?" he said softly as the advisor turned his face in fury, refusing to lock eyes with him. "Do you protest when winter freezes the riverbeds? Do you feel sadness at the sight of summer's deeds on the withered grass? My season has come to an end, Aragorn. I have lived through all in a matter of days, and I am lucky in comparison to a man who has lived none and shall die with the absence of it." He looked at the forest again, as it shone with the memory of his last, vivid days of fierce passion, desperation, hope, joy, love, indecision and dedication. "I shall pass like breeze through a valley. It is as natural as that. I shall fade like twilight fades into dawn. All was here before me, and all shall remain after me."

At that, Aragorn began to cry, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs and Legolas smiled, laying a hand on his shoulder as another song drifted up to them and spoke of hope and bright days to come.

***


	29. Let It Go, It is Over

Irulan opened her eyes and inhaled softly. She instantly recognized the ceiling of the room in the House of Healers. Without thought, she snatched her hands back and only then realized with relief that they were not bound. Cherishing that fact for a few moments, she slowly turned her head to take in her surroundings. Indeed, she was in the chamber that belonged to the House of Healers and it was nighttime. The soft glow of candles along with an overpowering smell of flowers dominated the room in which she was lying alone. She turned her head the other way and realized that a gigantic bouquet of flowers was lying next to her on the bed, the fragrance emanating from them incredibly strong. 

She smiled a broken smile, gliding her fingers over the soft texture of the blossoms. 'Legolas,' she thought and her fingers hesitated as her smile froze with the remembrance of the past events. Irulan pursed her lips and folded her hands on her belly, her gaze still resting on the bouquet. 

She lay like that for many minutes, her thoughts gliding back in time, lingering on strange details that she had forgotten years ago. And lying in the warm and deserted room of the Healers, Irulan found the story of a girl that seemed very plain and simple, but upon closer inspection revealed a tale of unbelievable strangeness of Fate. 

Who was Irulan? A girl of opposites. A fierce realist who dreamt about unthinkable and heroic deeds she would perform on her travels in Middle Earth. A pessimist who only managed to make it through the day due to her hope of a better tomorrow. A hopeless romantic, cursed with rationale and logic. A servant who –even if only for a matter of days- had dared to stride towards the throne of Ithilien. 

She chuckled softly, then sighed once more. What could such a creature become, anyway? It had been foolish to think that she and Legolas could indeed end up together. It had been folly to think that someone like her – a coward, a liar, a cruel and coarse creature – could indeed be loved and treasured by someone as divine as Legolas. Her gaze glided to the bouquet again. Legolas! A majestic man who was even now treating her as if she was worthy of such handling. She had told him everything. And he brought her flowers! Irulan moaned. It would make her so much more comfortable if he had thrown her out. It would have made everything easier. But it would not be easy, by the looks of it. 

Finally she sighed and sat up, massaging her face. At least he was not here. Perhaps she would manage to exit the castle without meeting him again. A part of her protested at such a move that could only be described as something beyond ungrateful. After such treatment, she certainly should not be running off without a sincere and serious apology! But...she simply could not face him! Especially when he was being so nice to her. 

She glided off the bed and didn't feel dizzy with the movement...that was good. With one last look at the flowers, she said "Goodbye, Legolas," and then stepped out the door. 

The assistant healers sitting outside jumped to their feet. They curtsied deeply as Irulan hastily put on a blank face. 

"Lady Irulan..." they began, then one gave the other a meaningful look and the first one curtsied again: "Her Majesty! You should not have risen! Let us guide you back."

Irulan took a sharp breath when being addressed so, but remained calm other than that. "I am well," she said with as much of a regal tone as she could muster and raised her chin. "I will leave now to meet Prince Legolas."

"The Prince has asked of us to keep you resting until he returns, Your Majesty. He will return soon, I am certain," said the second girl then. 

"There is something of grave importance I need to discuss with him. I must see him now," she insisted, trying to sound impatient. 

The first girl took over: "He was here with you, Queen Irulan, but left a few hours ago, saying that he will return in due time. He did not tell us where to find him. Please remain until he comes back."

"I know where he is," she lied smoothly, "He told me." When the girls blinked in surprise and exchanged glances at this unexpected turn of events, she hastily continued: "I can not wait. I will go immediately." With that, she lifted up her skirts and strode past them with determination. 

"But...but Prince Legolas explicitly told us to-..." they stammered behind her and Irulan turned to look over her shoulder, not stopping her steps.

"If he should arrive before I find him, tell him that I could not wait, and that *I* ordered you to let me go. I am certain that he will understand." With that, she walked out of the corridor to another one, where other healers where walking back and forth and not knowing about Legolas' order to the assistant girls, jumped up to their feet, curtsying or bowing deeply as she passed. Upon her request, they guided her out of the House of Healers and Irulan thanked them curtly, then walked out into a small garden that seemed to be deserted. After having put a good enough distance between herself and the healers, she broke into a run, not looking back again. 

***

"What do you mean '_gone_'?" thundered the Prince. 

"Sire...she said you told her where to find you. We had no reason to doubt her word," stammered the pale girl. 

Legolas took a deep breath and tried to calm his frantic heart. Irulan, gone. Running around somewhere in the castle! This place was gigantic – one could get lost in here for hours! Even for days, if one ran into a structure like the Labyrinthine Woods! Not to mention that some parts were completely abandoned, and therefore old and dangerous. What if she stepped on a loose board? What if she fell into some pit? What if she broke or twisted something and failed to return? Legolas had no doubts about his staff or servants, but what if one of the thousands of guests dared to do something to her? Or...what if Irulan had managed to exit the palace undetected and was now running around somewhere in Middle Earth? Alone! Where orcs lurked...and dragons. Giant spiders and trolls! Dangerous passes and slippery tunnels and terrible blizzards and rough Dunedain and hostile Rohirrim and...

He tried to shake off the dread that seemed to squeeze his heart with unrelenting harshness. Aragorn's voice cut in: "Was she fine?"

"She seemed fine," stammered the girl, but didn't dare to speak any further and looked up to the old woman who had a higher rank than herself. The woman gave the girl another terrible glance, then picked up the word: 

"Sire, I dare not lie to you. Lady Irulan was incredibly upset and weakened when you brought her in. I did not see her leaving, but I do not believe that she could have recovered in such short a time." She pursed her lips at the Prince's expression that betrayed his inner horror at her words. 

"Er...Lady Irulan is a tough woman. I am certain that she will be fine," said Aragorn between clenched teeth. 

"Tough she is," was the desperate sigh of the woman. 

Legolas looked at the bouquet of flowers on the bed and swallowed softly. "Do you have ANY idea how big this castle is?" he seethed. 

"Yes S-..."

"And are you aware that Lady Irulan does not know her way around here?" his tone rose a little higher. 

"Your Highness we-…"

"And you said yourself that she is not well to begin with!" he cut in, his voice bouncing off the walls of the chamber. 

"Legolas-" began the Chief Advisor, but was cut off himself with another thunder from the Prince:

"How on earth will we find her?! That is IF we find her at all! BEFORE she seriously injures herself! Or WORSE!"

Aragorn's hand found his arm and stilled his voice then. "We WILL find her, Legolas!" he said, squeezing harder to make his point and meeting the blue gaze of the Prince without blinking. The elf regarded him with that penetrating look for a few moments, then grinded his teeth and looked away. A moment later he strode out of the House of Healers with silent fury and Aragorn, giving one last and compassionate look at the healers who seemed in desperate need of healing themselves, followed him. 

"Legolas, stop! Where are you going?"

The elf slowed his pace a little, confusion on his face. "I do not KNOW!" he said in fury. Who knows where she went!" He hastily turned to the advisor then "What if something happens to her in the palace, Aragorn?! I can never forgive myself for such a thing!"

"Nothing will happen to her," assured him the ranger. "Whatever happened to your calmness?!"

"How can I be calm NOW?!" thundered Legolas. "Irulan might be-…"

"Irulan is probably perfectly safe!" interrupted him Aragorn, amazed at the degree of his panic. He could not remember Legolas in this state before. Ever. 

The elf began to stride again. "She does not know this place!" he shouted. "She is ill!" At that, he stopped suddenly and turned to Aragorn with widened eyes. "Aragorn," he whispered and swallowed hard, "what if she is dying somewhere?" He grabbed the front of his friend's tunic unconsciously as Aragorn's eyes observed with awe the fingers clenching his shirt. 

"Do not be foolish," the advisor mumbled, trying to unclench the elf's fingers from his shirt, and added a hiss of a "Sire!"

"She is ill!" said Legolas, paling visibly. 

"She is not!" hissed Aragorn again and finally managed to tear his hand away. "Humans do not get ill overnight!" 

"She was ill before!" boomed Legolas then. 

The ranger blinked in surprise. "She was?" When Legolas nodded with alarm, he ran his hand through his dark hair. "Well...I will tell the head servant. And he...he'll tell his assistants...and they tell can their assistants. We will find her Legolas," he said, trying to look casual. But his pretense was very see-through for the elf who knew him better than anyone else. The Prince grabbed the front of his shirt again and this time almost tore it. 

"You do that. And then find me...I will be in the Meeting Hall of the northern wing!" he whispered, a blue flame lighting his eyes. And then the elf was gone, already faded into the dark as Aragorn blinked with disbelief for several moments before he managed to pull himself together and walk towards the Grand Hall. 

***

Irulan bit her lip and turned to look over her shoulder towards the deserted dark corridor. "I will not be afraid," she whispered with urgency. "I will NOT! There is nothing to fear. And I am NOT lost, period!"

Needless to say that the words did nothing to increase her confidence. She looked ahead again as the corridor stretched into the darkness, the dim glow of the torches barely revealing it. She took a deep breath and continued to walk, her steps echoing in the hallway. The torch in her hand flickered and hissed, but did not go out. "Who needs a gigantic place like this!" she huffed, trying to suppress her fear. "I mean...why not a smaller castle, damn it?! It is certainly a waste of space and-…" She heard a sound then and her heart almost stopped. She clutched at her skirt so hard, that she left permanent wrinkles on it and waited, holding her breath. The sound did not repeat itself again. 'Doesn't mean that everything is fine,' said an amused inner voice and Irulan gulped in reply. 

"Stupid, stupid, STUPID woman!" she hissed to herself, hastening her steps. "Why in the name of Uroth, did you not find a servant and have him lead you out of this damnable place?! Huh? WHY? Stupid woman!"

She arrived at an exit that led to a darkened garden which seemed pretty untended to and wild. No lanterns or torches hung here. And yet, it looked a better option than the oppressing and seemingly endless corridor. So she stepped into it and trying to still her frantic heart, walked on the stony path that led through it. 

***

"Where did you see her?" boomed Legolas and approached the man with such speed, that the servant took a step back and ran into Aragorn's chest, who pried him off himself. 

"Sire...it was more than an hour ago...and I THINK it was her...but she could have been someone else, you see..."

"WHERE?!" thundered the elf.

"Th-the northeastern wing, Sire," the man yelped. Then added "But perhaps it wasn't her! I don't know for certain! I only thought it strange for a woman to walk around there alone, with a torch in her hand!"

Legolas took a deep breath and locked eyes with the ranger. "Well...that sounds pretty much like Lady Irulan to me," Aragorn said, staring back. 

"The north-eastern wing!" boomed the Prince a moment later, and everyone flinched. "Of all places!"

Aragorn effectively pushed the servant away (and the man was more than glad to oblige) and stepped up to the Prince. "We will find her, Legolas. There is nothing to worry," he seethed between clenched teeth, urging the Prince to remain calm under the watchful gaze of his staff. 

Legolas gave him a long and cold stare and although he was about to lose his mind, somehow managed to remain perfectly normal from the outside. "I know that," he said finally with a cooler tone. "But it has to be soon. You know as well as I do that the northeastern wing is deserted for the most part and very old. The building is weak in many places and a threat to life." He took a deep breath and looked at the men in the room as they snapped to attention. "Go!" he shouted and everyone except Eomer, Boromir and Aragorn rushed out of the room, half-running in said direction. 

Legolas massaged his face when they left. "I am a FOOL!" he hissed finally, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I should not have left her unattended! FOOL!"

"Sire, Lady Irulan is a very capable woman. I am certain that she will manage fine," intervened Eomer with a tinge of worry. 

"We will find her in a matter of minutes anyway," added Boromir. 

The Prince sighed and dropped his hand. He gave the captains a long look and they swallowed softly, still very much ashamed to look him in the eye, but remained fixed. The elf nodded then and they bowed slightly in unison, leaving as well, their long strides echoing in the hallway. He felt Aragorn's presence next to him and turned to see the man with a torch in his and. Without another word Legolas turned around and they strode out, walking towards the northeastern wing. 

***

Irulan arrived at a wall that she believed to be the border of the garden. It was pretty high and covered with vines, lined with bushes. She decided to walk along it, hoping to come to an exit. But to her dismay, the lush garden was very wild and so dense, that many spots had evaded the heat of the summer and managed to stay wet. She felt her feet sinking into soft mud several times, ruining her sandals and the hem of her skirts. Not that it mattered any longer. She would not be using them once she was out of the palace. 

Irulan walked and walked, the sound of nocturnal animals giving her a chill in the silence. Several times she believed to hear the soft sound of music coming from the palace, but it could easily be her imagination. Nevertheless, it made her turn and look at the gigantic structure again and again, and a sadness like no other overcame her. In the silence and darkness of the night, memories of the forest meetings floated back to her. 

"Not now!" she thought with frustration. "Damn it, not now! It is over! Legolas may be kind to me, but no doubt that he is disgusted by my actions. I can NEVER look at him again!" she moaned. "I don't want to remember! That part of my life is over!" But it was not over. It never would be. Legolas was branded on her memory like a mark that pulsed with agony and pleasure at the same time. And no matter how many times she told herself so, it simply was not over. 

Legolas would find another. He would hold another. Spoil another. Kiss another. Tell another how magnificent she looked and make another taste the strange fruits from distant lands. He would embrace another in the mornings and visit the town in disguise, holding the hands of another. Another would sit on Arod and another would enjoy his company as he recited elvish from some ancient text. 

Irulan began to cry then. Not so much with jealousy, but rather with the agony of having missed the chance of a lifetime. And at that moment she knew with utmost certainty that it had been her true fate to be with Legolas. That, as he had said, he was her true match. Not only in this lifetime, but many times before and hopefully many times after this one. She knew that she belonged to him and that all her protests and anthems about freedom and individuality were mindless chatters and foolish statements. She was his. As he was hers. It was simple, natural and very beautiful. It was exactly as it should be. Or rather....it HAD BEEN so. For it was over. 

Countless people dreamt of and hoped for true love, forever in longing for it and never stumbling upon it. And Irulan had found it. Only to lose it in a matter of days. Her mind went over it again and again, and she remained baffled at the realization of how a small detail, a minor mistake could distort everything else. How one thing could lead to another and one's deeds would fold upon each other over and over and over again, until they returned like a giant tidal wave, ready to consume everything in its way. She walked on and on, her sobs a sad aura, surrounding her like a heavy funeral dress. Just when she had decided to give up on her freedom and her independence, it was snatched from her reach like candy taken from a child. Oh yes...the Valar definitely had a sense of humor. 

With such sentiments, Irulan's hand -looking for support- found a weaker spot in the wall and she fell as it gave in under her touch. No one else, including herself, would have detected such a breach from afar, but leaning on it to aid her walk had made the stones that had been standing there for who knows how long now, finally shift and falter, causing a small opening to appear in the border of the least used part of the palace. After managing to stand up again and finding her torch as it had luckily avoided the mud, she proceeded to look out and her heart felt sudden joy at the sight before her. "Finally!" she said to herself as her gaze reached over the forest that stretched before her. Irulan stepped out of the hole and clenching her fingers stronger around the torch pursed her lips as she began to walk towards the dark forest, leaving the promise of a better life behind.

  
***

"She WHAT?!"

"She left! Legolas will die!" whined Boromir and passed his hand over his eyes, his voice breaking. 

"He WHAT?!!!!"

"The Prince is very upset. VERY upset," said Eomer then, and he did not sound better at all. "And...it is all...our fault," he finished with a whisper. 

"This can NOT be happening!" yelped Eowyn finally, her hands clenching into fists as her eyes glazed with disbelief. "They are supposed to get married tomorrow!"

"Haven't you heard us?!" sighed Boromir finally and dropped his hand to reveal his eyes, burning like two pieces of coal in his face. "He discovered the plot! Everything is OVER!"

"Ah he discovered the plot!" moaned Eowyn with impatience, throwing up her hands. "So what?! It means nothing! It served to bring Irulan in, did it not? That was the whole purpose and –need I say it- the ONLY option at that time. They fell in love and everything was going EXACTLY as it should!"

"Well obviously it isn't, anymore!" hissed the First Captain in reply. "The man is devastated." A terrible expression came over his features then. "He will...oh Gods...he will..."

"He won't die!" hissed Eomer. "Stop saying that!"

"What is this dying issue?" the girl cut in with impatience.

Both Boromir and Eomer just gave her silent stares, then looked away in unison, swallowing softly. 

"It is the way of the elves," came Gandalf's soft voice. The silence that set in the room was almost tangible. The wizard walked around them, facing the large paintings on the wall that showed elves and men standing side by side, building Ihtilien. He clasped his hands behind his back, continuing his inspection of the art. "Such frailty…" -his whisper bounced off the walls of the room like a garment gliding over stone- "…underneath such cool serenity. It always leaves me in awe." When he turned to the company again, all were fixed on him. He met Eowyn's blue gaze. "Legolas will die, no doubt. The heart of an elf is a mighty thing indeed."

Eowyn just looked at him. Then she looked at Chemarit. Then at Boromir and Eomer. And back to Gandalf. They stared back at her, biting their lips and clenching their jaws. "And?" she said finally, still looking from one to the other. 

The men blinked and exchanged glances. 

"Well?" she tried again. 

"Well what?" said Boromir finally. 

"What the hell are you planning to do?" 

"Planning to DO?" the First Captain said with a voice laced in disbelief and confusion. 

"Yes, damn it!" exploded the girl. "We can not sit here and allow that to happen, can we?"

Another silence, heavy with bemusement. "Irulan is gone. Prince Legolas will not go after her. He will respect her wish to leave. It is over," said Chemarit. 

"We can NOT let this happen! She will regret it till the end of her life and he will DIE!"

"Lady Eowyn," broke in Eomer, taking an urgent step towards her, "we can NOT engage in such a thing! And I refuse to play the Prince again!"

"And watch him die?" said the blonde woman with frosty blue eyes. To that, Eomer only managed to stare back. 

"Eowyn," said Chemarit finally, scratching his chin. He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath: "Let it go." 

"I will NOT!" boomed the girl, clenching her fist and waving it under his nose. 

"Let it go, Eowyn," the old man repeated, locking eyes with her. "It is not your say anymore."

"But..."

"No. They are two mature people and they have made their decision."

"Chemarit!"

Chemarit only waved his hand to cut her off and miraculously, it did work. He looked into her disbelieving gaze again. "No, Eowyn. We have tried, have we not? In any and every way, we have tried. And perhaps it was not meant to be. Or perhaps it failed BECAUSE we have tried." He regarded her and the others for a moment under the dim light of the torches and candles in the room. "Fate had brought them together before we even meddled, had it not? Even before we KNEW! There was a natural flow of things and I have this feeling that we have, with our meddling, only diverted the direction of the river."

"That is not true," she whispered in protest. 

"What if it is?" was the tired question. 

The silence stretched between them again. And as it continued on and on, something unthinkable happened: Eowyn let go. Eowyn, who was bestowed with no such virtues, finally took a deep breath, and looked at the grand painting on the wall for long minutes, her eyes wandering over the beautiful images of pioneers as they stood gazing to the landscape of a yet unpopulated Ithilien. And she let go. After all, Chemarit was right. They HAD tried everything. And things just had not ended up as planned. 

"What happens now?" she whispered finally, her eyes still locked to the painting. 

"Now," Eomer said, combing his hand through his hair in deft desperation, "now me and Boromir will go and continue the search. And I hope that Lady Irulan has made it safely out of the castle. After that..." he shrugged, unable to make eye contact with anyone. 

"After that we shall all observe the sad fading of a light," added Gandalf, his voice bitter and tired at the same time. 

All remained silent to that, failing to come up with an answer worthy of it. 

***

Legolas glided his fingers over the muddy print, feeling the texture of it. "She passed this way," he said with a low voice, "about an hour ago." With that he raised his eyes, locking his gaze with Aragorn, who stood crouching beside him, inspecting the print under the flickering light of his torch. 

"Yes," the man added, his eyes still fixed on it, "her walk seems leisure. We shall catch up shortly." He rose to his feet a moment later, as did the elf. 

"She is not well, Aragorn," he said softly then, his gaze gliding to the darkened garden, "the tracks indicate that she is dragging herself."

"It could be the mud, Legolas."

The Prince clenched his teeth. "I hope so," was his sole reply as he continued his stride along the wall, his friend following. 

Many minutes later they finally reached the very same hole in the outer wall that Irulan had stepped out from, more than an hour ago. Aragorn, happy that her track was quite evident even in this secluded space and would now even be more apparent in the open, stepped out immediately, his gaze sweeping over the forest as joy overcame him. He turned around and smiled to Legolas, who was standing right beside him, his blue eyes scanning the array of trees, but his smile faltered at the expression of the elf. "Come, she can not be far," he said cautiously and stepped ahead, but halted when Legolas did not follow or even move. 

"Legolas?" he said then, the joy in his heart slowly burning into ash with perfect agony. 

The Prince did not answer for many minutes. Finally he took a deep breath. "So she has made it out safely," he whispered, almost to himself. Then he locked eyes with the Chief Advisor, who stood fixed on his spot. "We can return now, Estel," he added, and though his voice was utterly soft, it had the effect of a slap on the face for the other man. 

"Legolas…" he tried again with a shaking voice, though the expression of the elf told him that he would not succeed in this argument. 

"Estel, I will not argue about this. Nor will I explain myself again." His gaze wandered to the forest again. "If nothing else, Irulan deserves our respect for her decisions. We will not hinder her in her aims."

The ranger pursed his lips in an attempt to hold back a curse at Irulan, Legolas, himself and the rest of the damn world! He clenched his jaws, unable to come up with anything, and yet unable to move away, either. "Please," he choked out finally. 

The gaze of the elf was as cold as the coldest winter. "No," was his short reply. 

Aragorn swallowed and looked into the dark forest. He decided to try another angle: "What if she gets hurt out there? You know Middle Earth as well as I do," he spat, gaining confidence from the logic of the argument. "It is not a kind place. Especially to a lonely woman. We can not-"

"Yes we can. And we will!" the Prince commanded, the edge of sadness in it too evident to be missed. He took a step towards the other man then and Aragorn, who was surprised by that action, remained glued to his spot. "Do you think that I am not aware of that option? That it is not eating me from the inside this very minute with a sharpness unparalleled?!" he hissed as the ranger felt true fear at the sight of his expression. "But I can not...I WILL NOT intervene! The Valar will take care of her as they did until this very day. It is her wish and I will honor that." His eyes locked to the advisor's again. "As you will honor mine," he added a moment later with a colder expression. 

Aragorn only swallowed in reply as the torch in his hand hissed softly and the trees sighed in the distance. Legolas' looks became somewhat softer then and he looked into the forest one last time. "Please," he said absent-mindedly, his thoughts whirling under the pressure of his emotions, "do not torture me any further by reminding me of that option."

He turned around and walked back to the hole with sharp determinism, his voice pure determination: "Tell everyone to cease the search. It is over."

With that Legolas was gone and Aragorn, threatened by another wave of frustration and using all his strength to overcome it, gazed long minutes towards the forest, his heart crying the very same tears his eyes refused to give in to. 


	30. The Battle of Good and Evil

We can not know the value of the things we possess or the people around us until we lose them. I am absolutely certain of this. And of the fact that life is not pretty at all. Even in a fairy tale. And what better continuance to a fairy tale than a Prince on his white horse? In any case, the events have a natural flow to me, even though might think that I am pushing the limits of reality. But hey…this is a fairy tale, right? 

Thank you all for your incredible support. Anyone who wishes me to reply to their kindest of praises, please do not forget to include your mail address. 

This is for Heather, Alina and Missy. 

***

The days that followed were such as the castle had never witnessed in its long reign. Sad events had adorned its history many times, no doubt - violence as well as brutality, loss, torture and death. And yet, no elf sitting on the throne had faded in Ithilien before, and it was incomparable to any former terrible incident. It meant watching someone die in utter silence, without the slightest struggle, completely out of reach. 

The Grief took hold of the entire castle, dripping down its walls, seeping through the floors, whispering in the deserted halls, blowing in the gardens and echoing in the halls. It became almost a tangible thing – something that seemed there, looking right above your shoulder. Something that refused to leave even if you turned around and looked it in the eye.

Legolas disappeared from view and was rarely seen. He remained in his room during the day, his personal guards honoring his wish of solitary hours and not letting anyone in. His food remained untouched as the cooks sat in silence, the wish to please the Prince giving in to the torture of the repeated failure to do so. He glided out of his chamber at nights, walking the deserted halls of the gigantic maze that was the castle, as silent and as pale as a ghost. Few saw him and everyone who did, wished he had not. The sadness emanating from him was so constricting that it seemed to block out one's breath with closer range. 

The guests were asked kindly to leave and the promise of a wedding slowly faded as word was sent out that a grave issue concerning Ithilien had come up and therefore the union of Lady Irulan and Prince Legolas was postponed indefinitely. They left the palace almost running, glad to be away from the chocking atmosphere of sorrow and melancholy pulsing through the walls more and more with each day. 

But some stubbornly remained. 

Gandalf stayed, smoking his pipe in silent loneliness in the library, barely saying a word. Haldir stayed, his attitude concerning the Prince changing drastically from cold rivalry to heated anxiety. He approached the corridor that led to his chamber where his guards held post several times every day, not giving up on his stubborn desire to gain entrance, knowing he would be refused. The rejection did not keep him from trying again and again. He even waited once long enough to see the Prince coming out and tried to communicate against all odds. But Legolas was like a shadow of the elf he had been - slippery and deft, he had managed to evade the grasp of the Lothlorien lord, disappearing in one of the darker corridors with silent grace. 

Arwen, too, remained although Elrond had to leave for urgent matters, his heart trembling with the thought of leaving both Legolas and Arwen behind in such a state. It was as if a part of the Prince's grief was working its way into her system as well. And if Aragorn was not dying from the pure torture of the sight of his friend, certainly the sight of the Rivendell princes crying and her beautiful figure shaking with sobs was enough to double the degree of the torment instantly. Many times a day she was seen crying silent tears for the fate of both Legolas and Irulan as she walked through the gardens of the castle, almost a mirror image of the ghost that the Prince was. Thankfully their ways never crossed. 

Gimli, of course, stayed in the castle, rumbling through the corridors like some disaster, cursing everyone and everything. If not for his close acquaintance with the Prince, he would no doubt have been sent away in the kindest and yet most definite manner, a long time ago. As it was, he continued creating havoc on the ears and eyes of everyone, daring to challenge even the Valar in his yelling and shouting. 

Aragorn, Eomer and Boromir tried to keep up the daily work of the Prince. They did their best to keep an eye out for everyone else as well and since the Prince had transferred most of the load that concerned the rule of Ithilien on their shoulders even before the Ball, they did a fair enough job in his stead. 

So three days went by. Three days that, in their intensity, could have passed for three centuries easily enough. Life oozed out of Ihtilien like it would ooze out a battered body. The kingdom grew into a quiet and somber place, as the citizens heard the state of their ruler (though not the real reason for it) and their anxiety grew with each hour, as the fear of losing the Prince for good became a silent but dreadful sword, balanced over their very heads, leaning down as if it would break free any moment and cut their heads off. 

Legolas was fading. He did not care for life any longer. Not for Ithilien. Not for Middle Earth. And with those things gone, he had lost his direction and purpose in life. He felt like a useless pawn in a grander way of things and wished nothing more than to lie down and never wake up again. But he did. To his own disappointment, again and again he returned from the land of dreams. 

He sighed in frustration and turned on the other side in the bed. That was not a good idea, for it made him face the side she used to sleep in. Out of his own accord his hand reached out and glided over the sheet. An imaginary warmness crept up to his fingers. He closed his eyes, his mind slowly spinning, evading his grasp again. He resented this part. And a side of him fought it, knowing that it was only an escape. An illusion. A dream. Something not real and only elusive. Though the pain it brought with it was very real. 

To say that he remembered would be a mistake. It was not a mere dance of memories. It was not the polishing and renewal of past events. It was almost reliving them anew. He really WAS there as Irulan lay her hand on his forearm, after his confession of his loneliness, on the very first day they met in the forest. The lingering heat of the summer was there. The orange-golden glow of the late afternoon sun was there. The smell of the forest – of the grass and the trees and the nearby stream was there. In his mind Legolas reached out and touched her cheek, and he could have sworn that the feeling of her skin and the warmth of it was as real as his own being. 

Irulan smiled up to him then, the color of her eyes just the right shade of brown with specks of gold from the reflecting sunlight. She placed her hand over his and the part of him that fought to wake up, instantly ceased the struggle, giving in to the temptation of the illusion. It was pointless. He wanted to stay. He wanted to stay right here with her. He did not care if it wasn't real. What was real, anyway? 

"Stay with me," he whispered, his voice perfectly real as dream and reality overlapped, becoming something entirely different. 

Her smile became wider as a soft breeze played with the loose strands of her hair. "Of course, Legolas," she said, her voice intoxicating to say the least. 

"I thought I lost you," he said with deft terror. 

Her eyebrows rose gently to that, her head slightly tilting as she blinked. "How can you loose me, Legolas?" she said then, chuckling softly. Her touch on his hand grew ever so slightly . 

A sudden light illuminated the night sky then as the summer day hastily faded into night, and the stars appeared like white blots on dark fluid. The rumble of thunder vibrated in the forest, accompanied by the cool drizzle of the faintest of rains. Irulan looked up, her eyelids fluttering with the effect of the rain. Her eyes locked with his again a moment later. "You promised to show me the stag."

He smiled, feeling excitement and joy mingling in his chest. "Only at the price of a kiss," he whispered as thunder rolled over them like a soft wave. 

She looked away, one of her typical blushes adorning her cheeks. "Legolas!" she hissed in a tone that betrayed both discomfort and scolding and the elf laughed despite himself, his fingers finally entwining with hers, pulling her hand to himself to place a kiss in her palm that was so unbelievably real in its texture, warmth and wetness. 

Legolas opened his eyes, a flash of pain overcoming him at the realization that it was not real after all. The truth came crashing down on him and once again he felt torn in two – one part of him felt relief at having grasped reality once more. But another and far stronger part felt frustrated at the awakening and only wanted to return to that land where the past lingered on and everything that seemed impossible now was very possible and probable yet. 

He sighed and turned to lie on his back, the nocturnal darkness now very evident in his unlighted room. The breeze from the open window was very soft, not really lifting the heat of the summer that had occupied the chamber the entire day. "You will get dirty in here Legolas!" Irulan said with perfect shock and horror, her voice very evident in the silence of the room.

"I do not mind," he mumbled, placing his hand over his face, desperation seeping through him as the fight in him built up anew. He felt her hand gliding over his then, slowly finding its way on his chest. He dared not open his eyes in fear of seeing that she was not there. 

"But," she whispered in urgency, "what will they THINK, Legolas?"

"Do not worry, Irulan," he said, allowing the caress of her fingers on his shirt and lying in perfect stillness so that he would not disturb the vision in any manner, "No one can reach us any longer."

"It is cold in here," she mumbled, placing her head on his chest as he gasped with the pleasure of the comfortable weight. The terrible desire to let go came over him again. 

"Let the world go on without me. I do not care," he whispered into the empty room. 

'What of Ithilien? What of your duties?' said a distant part of him then, but he blocked it out. All that mattered this instant was the comfortable weight of Irulan's head on his chest. 

"Let another carry the burden. I don't have the strength," he whispered, drifting in and out from one world to the other and feeling elevation at the sensation of giving up.

And his wish would have been granted, no doubt, if, on the third day, a panicked and pale Eowyn, followed by an anxious Chemarit had not managed to run into the castle, at the brink of fainting from her anxiety and bewilderment, bringing ill news to the Prince of Ithilien.

***

"I have never seen him like that!" the young woman cried as big, round tears slid down her cheek, "He is DYING, I tell you!"

"Nonsense!" replied the older one, snickering in protest and continuing to load the vegetables from the chests on the table in front of her.

"He has not touched his food in days! Or even left that chamber! Oh it is a terrible sight!"

"Be quiet, Martan!" hissed the other one finally, glancing around with anxiety. Their conversation seemed to be no interest to anyone in the marketplace that was as busy as ever, though perhaps not as noisy and joyful. She turned to lock eyes with the servant girl again. "I am sure that Prince Legolas will be well again. It must be a passing thing," she added with a softer tone. 

In reply Martan only gave her a nasty stare with her bloodshot eyes and sniffed, fumbling with the vegetables on the table, for the sake of doing something. She clenched her jaws, trying to hold it down, but the words seemed to be like some bitter poison that needed to be spit out. "It is HER fault!"

At that, the seller ceased her work and planting her fists on the table, leaned over it, giving a frosty look to the young girl standing on the other side. "Enough, you foolish girl!" she hissed, resisting the urge to look around her again. "Do not mingle in things that are too big for your brain!"

"She DESERTED him!" was the urgent reply, uttered in a lower voice. 

"Says who?"

Martan tilted back a little then, shifting on her legs and shrugging a little before she continued: "People."

"People say many things, Martan. Do not waste my time with useless gossip!" With that, she turned to continue her work, but Martan would not give up that easily: 

"They say she ran away. Like a thief, Hana! She probably was one, to begin with!" When the old woman took a deep breath in preparation for a good scolding, she hastily continued: "I KNOW that the Prince was taken with Lady Irulan. It is heartbreak that is making him suffer, I tell you!"

"You tell me too many things," seethed Hana, finally releasing the basket in her hand that fell to the ground, making Martan jump up with surprise. "And none of it is useful! Such things are common between two people. If it is their fate to be together, the Valar will find a way to re-unite them. And you, stupid little girl, are better off holding that spiky tongue of yours until that happens!"

Martan huffed with distaste and desperation, then placed back the potato in her hand with a loud bang, her eyes locked to the seller's. She pushed up her chin and lifting her skirts, turned around in fury, not looking back as she strode away from the marketplace in the direction of the palace, enraged with many thoughts and ideas. 

She had not gone too far when a voice spoke up behind her, making her stop in her tracks in irritation: "One moment please, my lady."

Martan turned and found herself face to face with three women, standing with a grace that almost looked absurd in an environment such as this. At the satisfaction of having gained her interest, the woman in the middle, older and more powerful in her authority continued: "We could not help to overhear your...conversation a moment ago." The servant girl shifted uneasily at that, growing a little pink at the realization but not dropping her mask of anger. "Oh no...do not worry. We will utter no word to another!" came the soothing statement. 

The pushed her chin up again. "What is this about, then?"

"We heard the mention of Lady Irulan," the woman said and stepped closer. "And were just curious. We knew her in person."

Martan's eyes widened at that. "You did?!"

The other nodded curtly. "Unfortunately," she hissed and the servant girl's expression changed from surprise to mild pleasure. 

"Why do you say that?" she said finally, turning around completely, facing the women. 

"Her acquaintance is not one that we will miss," mumbled the woman, and a moment later locked eyes with her again. "You said she left the palace. When exactly, my dear?"

An uneasiness came over Martan then. After all, it was more or less a private matter. But then...it was not a secret. Nothing that concerned the palace affairs directly. Her air of indecision vanished with these thoughts along with the realization that somebody would FINALLY listen to her in this matter without ordering her to be quiet! "The last night of the Ball," she heard herself saying and her confidence grew with each word. That woman had hurt the Prince! She deserved more than the idle gossip Martan could offer, for sure! 

"Where to, I wonder?" the old woman asked with mock shock. 

Martan shrugged. "She left from the northeastern part. I would assume she traveled in that direction."

A distasteful curse followed. "And the Prince?" was the concerned reply. 

"He is not well," said Martan with sad sympathy. 

"I assume that they did not part well then?" suddenly said one of the younger women, who had startling red hair and green eyes to match with it, and it came out perhaps too hopeful. 

Not that the servant girl realized it. "PART?!" was her furious reply. "Oh no, they did not part at all! She ran off like some criminal!" Her hands rolled into fists unconsciously. "And a stupid one, too! No horse, no nothing. She won't get too far, that's for sure."

"Oh how very right," mused the old woman then, "she won't get far."

***

The guards were, upon the Prince's request, now guarding not his chamber door, but stood post at the end of the corridor itself. Legolas had grown tired of the banging on his door and the protests and therefore had placed his men at the end of the hallway that led to this room. This way he was spared from the noise and was finally left in silent peace and solitude. On the fourth day Eowyn managed to get in, due to the fact that she was known to be a friend of His Majesty, and tried to get through his personal guards with all her might, but it was very much like trying to swim upstream the River Anduin. She tried for minutes, telling them about the urgency of the situation, her arguments falling on dead ears as the guards stood like statues of stone, only coming to life when she dared to breach their line. She yelled and screamed; her attempts only a distant whining for Legolas, who was too far to hear her words and who cared nothing for her new attempts anyway. 

Nothing happened. No sound came. No reply. No one opened the door and stepped out. Finally the woman walked away a few steps and leaned on the wall of the corridor, gliding down to sit, her looks fixed on the direction of the door. She sat there for a long time, accompanied by a silent Chemarit, sometimes crying, sometimes cursing, and sometimes focused in stillness. The night grew late. The stars rose from their slumber. Haldir, on one of his daily visits to the Prince's chamber found her sitting so and remained with her. As did Gimli, who was protesting the foulness of elves with fury and stumbled upon them on his way to Legolas' room, in front of which he had intended to continue his yelling. Eomer and Boromir, having decided to take a stroll in that direction just for the heck of it found them in deep discussion and joined. Then Boromir left to find Aragorn, who was consoling a battered Arwen in one of the palace gardens. Both elf and man immediately rose and ran to the corridor to find the others.

So it was that as the night the fourth day gave in to the fifth morning, when Legolas stepped out of his chambers and glided down the corridor in perfect silence, he found himself face to face with a very unusual company. He blinked with the ghost of a surprise, as if he had forgotten who these people were while everyone blinked in return at the sudden sight of him. A moment passed between them and the Prince finally gave a nod with his head as an indication of a greeting, then turned to walk by them, already having lost interest in the gathering. 

"Legolas-" began Aragorn but the elf's steps did not falter. 

"Prince Legolas, you need to-" tried Haldir, but Legolas walked on in perfect pace. 

"My child, wait-" began Gandalf, and the Prince did not hesitate in the slightest. 

"Irulan is dying!" shouted Eowyn suddenly and Legolas stopped, frozen in mid-track with his back turned to them. 

Everyone could have sworn that the silence continued for several minutes, although it was only a matter of moments before the Prince very slowly turned back to them, his cold blue gaze wandering over the company and finding Eowyn, who stood in perfect stillness in the middle, her arms crossed on her chest. He just stared at her for another moment, and the girl blurted: "That is, she WILL die!"

Another silence. "What are you talking about?" he said finally and there was an odd tinge to his voice. 

"She is in grave danger," said Eowyn then, and swallowed hard, finding it harder to respond to his sharp gaze. 

Legolas took a deep breath then, crossing his own arms on his chest and giving the group of people a very displeased look. "So now you have fallen enough to use her name to invoke me?" he hissed with unparalleled hate and bitterness. "Have you no shame?!" he said, sharp disappointment in his tone. 

"It is true, damn it!" boomed Eowyn, not caring if he was His Majesty or any other cursed man. Legolas' blue eyes found hers again and a tenseness set in between them. 

"Enough!" hissed the Prince.

"Damn true!" hissed the woman in return. His eyes glazed with another wave of disinterest then and he moved to turn around and leave when Eowyn spoke up again: "You can remain behind, Sire," she said in a cold tone. "I shall find Dernhelm. I am sure that HE will have the decency to help!" she spat, disgusted by everyone and everything at the moment. "Come Gandalf! Chemarit!" she hissed and leaving a frozen company behind (neither of the old men moved to follow her, by the way), she walked towards the Prince, not looking at him anymore and eager to pass by him and leave this accursed place. 

To her utter surprise the man caught her arm in passing and squeezed it hard enough for Eowyn to gasp with pain. She looked up to his eyes and swallowed with fear at the harshness in them. This was certainly not the Legolas she used to know. "Are you playing with me?" he said with such cold demeanor, that her fear only increased at that. 

"I am not, Prince Legolas," she managed to say and surprisingly it came out quite calm. 

His expression changed then. Slowly, but very evidently the slightest of emotions began to flutter across his features. It was a strange thing to watch, for no expression had been seen on his face for a very long time, now. He reminded Eowyn suddenly of a man coming back to life and opening his eyes to salvation. To her dismay, his grip on her arm grew even stronger. "What is going on?" he said, his voice finally gaining tone and expression as well, though it was not a nice one. 

"S-she...'" began Eowyn, her mind torn between the pain in her arm and the pain in her heart, "They are hunting her!" she yelped as his grip grew more merciless yet, pressing the statement out of her. 

"WHAT?!" boomed Legolas and everyone, even the guards jumped at the unexpected sound of his voice filling the corridors once again. It felt too much like hearing the dead talk, to say the truth. Uncaring or unaware of the reaction, he kept his focus on Eowyn. "WHO?"

"T-the...some men!" yelled Eowyn and struggled to free her arm while Haldir strode up to them quickly in an attempt to aid her. 

"Men hired by her family, Sire," broke in a voice then and Legolas lifted his eyes from the wiggling woman in front of him to see Chemarit stepping out of the group. At that moment Haldir arrived and pried his fingers off Eowyn, to which the Prince remained strangely oblivious as he fixed Chemarit with his blue orbs. "I saw it with my own eyes," the old man added and his voice, which none had heard shaking before, shook softly, although his outer calmness prevailed. Gandalf lay a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it with gentle force. 

"Her family?" said the Prince, the words falling off his mouth, although this mind was paying no attention to them and had already begun to whirl with a mad dance. 

"They will...they will," Chemarit tried again, but failed and decided to divert to another line. "I only hope that Irulan will die quickly, Sire," he said as the Prince's head snapped up to him again and all held their breath at his expression, never seen before and never to be seen again after that night in the corridor of his chamber. 

***

"I SHALL KILL YOU ALL!" his voice thundered with unparalleled rage, echoing in the halls of Ithilien that had grown accustomed to the past silent three days. "WHY HAVE YOU NOT TOLD ME BEFORE?!!!"

"We tried!" whined Boromir, unable to do otherwise in the face of such anger. 

"You would not open the damn door!" inserted Aragorn, looking oddly relieved as opposed to the rest of the company, "Sire," he added then. 

"You should have broken it in, then!" was the sharp reply and everyone tilted back when he turned to throw them a fiery glance. 

"I have been saying so!" mumbled Gimli. "But alas! No one would listen!" Growing aware of his own and unaccompanied speech, he immediately shut his mouth. 

"When did this...exchange take place?" growled the Prince, trying to calm himself down so that he could handle the matter more efficiently. Not to mention, with less emotion. 

"Today...in the earlier hours of the day," was Chemarit's reply. 

"I SHALL KILL YOU ALL!" shouted the Prince again, beyond himself with fury. 

"Perhaps after we save her, Sire?" Eomer whispered, hiding his shaking hands behind his back. 

"What else?" hissed Legolas to him then, making his hands tremble even stronger. "Get your useless selves to the Grand Hall! IMMEDIATELY!"

A moment later all that was left in the corridor was Legolas, his baffled guards and the swirling dust that was the only evidence of a hastily departing party. 

Legolas pinched the bridge of his nose, as he felt something strange taking hold of him. And he did not know it to be so then, but it was life flowing back into the veins of his spirit, shaking his physical body and clearing the heavy, dark clouds of his horizons. It was the will and wish to live that was now breaking through the damns of his Grief, once again invading the riverbeds of his psyche that had dried up almost completely in the last three days. He lifted his gaze and even the guards, who were no elves but mere men, noticed the vibrant vitality that had begun to pulsate out of the Prince of Ithilien, once more. He gave them one last look, not really seeing them while his mind was invaded with the images of torture inflicted on the one being in this world he valued beyond anything. With a frustrated hiss he too strode into his room, banging the door shut with such might, that the echo of it vibrated through the halls again and again until it died out.

***

Irulan sighed in dismay as yet another night was beginning to set. She moaned and drew up her knees as a shiver shook her with the chilly wind that scraped the barren landscape. It had rained a little the day before and she still felt damp from that. "Whoever said that such adventures are enjoyable was a big, fat, stupid LIAR!" she hissed, rubbing her hands on her legs in an attempt to warm up a little. "Not to mention that one has to learn to light a damn fire before one runs off!" The torch had died out a long time ago, leaving her face to face with cold and damp nights. Her clothes were filthy, her stomach was protesting, her body beyond tired and adorned with too many bruises and cuts. 

And being in this condition, sitting here all by herself in the middle of a strange forest, hungry, tired, cold and at the verge of sickness – not to mention, afraid, Irulan cursed the day she had longed to roam Middle Earth. No one had mentioned this rather terrible part about such travels. No one had told her that it was downright stupid and no fun at all. Not just because it was a real effort, but also because she felt so damn...alone. 

She sighed again, her gaze rising to the darkening sky. As always and each time and since the very first day, Legolas had been right again. She huffed in dismay, feeling downright stupid. No other word could summarize her state. It was a disgrace to have deserted the life Legolas had offered her in favor of THIS!

She sighed again, pulling herself up and walking down to the road that led to the next village, which she could see in the distance, by the glimmer of soft lights. A nasty cough shook her then and after having recovered from it, she rolled her eyes, thinking "Wonderful! Exactly what was missing from my life!" Irulan began a slow stroll towards the village, cursing the fact that she had taken no money, no clothes, no water and no nothing with her and that she was once again walking towards a certain theft just to fill her stomach. "I failed to become queen, but hey, I am becoming a wonderful thief!" she hissed, trying very hard to be sarcastic about something that was downright sad.

***

When Legolas arrived at the Grand Hall in his hunting attire, he looked nothing like the man he had been the last passing days. The current company swiftly jumped to their feet at his sight, bowing slightly, though the Prince gave no indication of seeing it as he proceeded towards the middle of the table, around which all were seated. His gaze swept over them like a blue chill one last time before he exhaled and placing his hands on the table, closed his eyes and rested his weight on it for a few moments, seeking relief from the incredible torment in his mind. 

No one dared to breathe. "Now," he said finally with a low voice, raising his head and opening his eyes, scanning the crowd and noticing that they, too, were dressed for the upcoming action. "Somebody tell me this story from the beginning. And fast! We have lost enough time as it is!"

Chemarit rose to that. With a slight bow and a scratch on the chin, he began to talk: "Sire, the former day I took Irulan's stepsisters and her stepmother to the marketplace," he began, his gaze resting on the figure of the Prince who looked like a bowstring about to make a shot. "There was much talk about your...condition. And I heard Lady Irulan's name mentioned as well..."

"Lady Irulan did not cause my condition," Legolas cut in with a dangerous voice. "She has made her own free and natural decision. It was MY decision that caused my condition."

"Eh...of course, Sire." When the Prince motioned him to continue, he went on: "So during our return I could not help to overhear their conversation. By the looks of it, they had found out that Irulan had left Ithilien, traveling on her own. And...well...I thought nothing of it. But today they asked me to take them to this inn. Irulan worked there before, I remember. And well, they went in and I...I sneaked in after them." He took a deep breath, remembering the incident and pursing his lips. "I managed to pry on their conversation Sire and...and…those women!" he hissed. "They talked to this group of men and allow me to say that just the sight of those men alone sufficed to make me anxious to say the least. They paid them a good sum, Sire, explaining Irulan's departure and...I heard it with my very own ears, Prince Legolas, they asked them to chase her! To hunt her down! And to do...unspeakable things to her," he finished, paling visibly. The Prince, too, swallowed hard at that. "They said that she had a good amount of gold on her, thereby making the chase worthy. Being so unprotected and alone in the wild..." He sat down then, unable to stand up any longer, and directed his gaze on the table. 

A terrible silence came up. Legolas barely kept himself from sinking on his chair. "Those women!" hissed Chemarit again. 

"Send out men and imprison them immediately," the Prince managed finally. "This will not go unpunished." One of the ranking officers at the table saluted to that stiffly and taking Chemarit's description of the address with silent whispers, departed from the room. Legolas took another deep breath then and looked up. "How can you NOT tell me this before?!" he snapped finally, unable to hold it in any further. "If they but touch a single hair of her head, I will hold you responsible. ALL of you!" he shouted as everyone at the table sat in silent stiffness and diverted their gaze to their laps. "After myself, that is," he added with a tired murmur then, and finally sank into his chair. 

"It is what she wanted, Legolas," was Gandalf's gentle intervention. "No need to blame yours-..."

"Nevertheless," cut in the Prince, waving his arm to dismiss the statement. "To think that a woman could roam Middle Earth in perfect freedom and safety is pure foolishness. She had no way of knowing but *I* did. And I let her go! Unaided! Unprotected!" he hissed, massaging his face. 

"I was supposed to go with her," said Eowyn then, glancing to the ceiling in remembrance. "But the darn woman-…"

At the warning look she received from the Prince, she hastily said "I mean...Irulan, ran off!"

"YOU?!" said Haldir with terror. "Such a thing can not be allowed, Eowyn."

Eowyn just blinked and stared at the Lothlorien lord sitting next to her. "Can not be allowed?" she repeated with awe.

"I'm afraid I am nowhere as tolerant and thoughtful as Prince Legolas," was the cold reply. "I would not let you go on such adventures."

Eowyn's brows furrowed even further and she was about to laugh out, uncaring of the current situation when the Prince cut in once again: "And a good thing that is, Lord Haldir." The gaze of the two elves locked as they, once again, looked almost identical images of each other. "From the very beginning, I have made terrible mistakes in this affair. I can only hope that it will not cause pain on Irulan's behalf."

"We will not allow any harm to come to her," the other elf said then, with a heated determinism that sounded almost odd, coming from him. The table agreed to that with enthusiasm. 

Aragorn stood up and lay a stack of maps in front if the Prince. "The region of the forest she could be in, Sire," he said, showing him the location in different maps. "We don't think that she could be far. I had taken the freedom to sent out pigeons with messages to nearby villages and cities in an attempt to locate her, the day after she left," he said, a little stiffly, very anxious of his reply. The Prince's head snapped up to that, but he remained silent. "Not to interfere, Sire...just to...know." He shrugged then. "In case..."

"In case of what?" prodded the Prince when the Chief Advisor refused to continue. 

"You know...just in case," said Aragorn, swallowing hard. 

The Prince just continued his unrelenting gaze for several moments. Finally he said "And?"

Aragorn exhaled softly and dared the ghost of a grin/ "And..." he began, with a lighter voice, "…she was seen here," he pointed to a village in the map, "Then here." His finger slid northward. "She slept in a barn here...and stole some fruit from a farmer's garden and was chased out of here..." The Prince's eyes widened at that, but he bit his tongue. "And was last seen..." His finger ended up on the thin line of a road that led further north, "…here."

Legolas looked at the map another moment. "It will take us too long to reach her!" he said in frustration. "They departed earlier today. They have HOURS ahead of us!" he pounded his fist on the table and everyone shifted uncomfortably. 

Finally the elf jumped to his feet, as did everyone else. "Prepare the horses!" he ordered and the remaining officers snapped to attention to that. "We shall leave immediately. A spare horse for each, for we shall ride non-stop. Anyone who can not stand such pace will stay behind and not hinder us." With that, the Prince strode out of the room in fury, leaving a nervous crowd behind. 

***

"You will NOT come!" thundered Haldir. 

"Yes, yes, of course, sure" Eowyn waved away his argument, proceeding to straddle her horse. The elf pulled her away immediately and she found herself nose to nose with him as her blue eyes locked into blue. 

"I said," he seethed, "you are not coming, Eowyn."

"How dare you-..." She was silenced by his sudden kiss. It was hard to startle someone like Eowyn, but Haldir achieved that task easily as he pulled her closer yet. Though it was barely moments, hours seemed to have passed before he softened the kiss and finally let go of her lips. He glided his fingers down her cheek, gazing into her eyes, as Eowyn was too baffled to reply. 

"Not this time," he said softly. 

"She is my friend, Haldir," Eowyn whispered, still dazed. 

"I know," he whispered and placed another gentle kiss on her lips. "I know. It is not that I think of you inefficient, Eowyn. It is because we will ride hard. You will only delay her rescue."

It only made sense. Though not inefficient in the art of riding, Eowyn was not stupid and knew that she was no match to these men. At least not yet. She huffed a moment later with a mock pout and encircled her arms around his neck. "So be it," she said with a sly wink. Haldir winked back and kissed her again. 

A similar conversation was taking place between a seething Aragorn and a very cool Arwen. "Don't you dare to approach that horse!" the ranger yelled finally, then hastily added "Lady Arwen," with a softer edge at the baffled expression of the elf. 

"I am as good a rider as you are," she said to that. 

Aragorn sighed in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am not the man Legolas is, Arwen," he said finally, his steely gaze fixed on her. "You will not come, period."

Arwen's eyebrows rose and a smile crept up to her lips. This new and rather masculine edge of the Chief Advisor was most unusual. And to be perfectly honest, rather pleasant. "I can see that," she mused finally. 

"You must stay here. Do it for me."

"For you?" Arwen drawled in amusement, walking leisurely towards him. "I fail to see the connection, Aragorn."

"I don't think my heart could endure anything even similar to Legolas' torture," the man said then, entranced by her grace at even in her current, rougher attire, "I am not so strong."

"Aragorn, Aragorn, Aragorn…" She smiled at his shyness and his evident control even now. Even now he could not admit his feelings for her. Her fingers glided up his arm. "…still you resist." Her eyes found his as he stared back at her, the intimacy of their stance stealing his breath. "Am I such a source of anxiety for you?" she whispered then, her fingers halting at his shoulder. 

"No…" he managed, then swallowed. "And yes." He looked up into her eyes that twinkled with amusement. He could swear that he had no control over his fingers as they found her cheek, touching it for the first time and feeling an immense relief at such a small gesture. The elf remained still as a statue under his touch, her expression an elvish blankness as she waited for him to break the barrier between them, as patient as only an elf could be. 

"I know that your heart is set for another, Arwen," he said finally, wondering at how he had managed to speak in the first place. "I told my own heart so, countless times. The foolish thing won't listen!"

Arwen smiled, drawing closer yet. "Such is the way with hearts," she said and Aragorn, lost under some spell, felt himself incapable of halting as he leaned in for the swiftest kiss, thinking that even if she never glanced his way again, his life was not in vain since he had been blessed with this single moment. No words could describe his surprise as, instead of a slap on the face, he received an embrace from Arwen, whose arms on his neck felt like nothing he had experience before, forcing him into a daze so deep, it was simply beyond him to break free from there. "I will wait for your return. With Irulan," she whispered, gliding her palm over his shocked face, then vanishing in the shadows of the stable, leaving Aragorn in a state he had never experienced before.

***

"All my damn fault!" hissed Legolas as he patted Arod's neck. He glanced up at the horse as the animal stared back at him. "If I but had not forced her into marriage so soon...she would have perhaps stayed, Arod," he said softly. "She would have stayed and I would have had all the time with her in ease of heart. But what did I do?" His voice gained a bitter edge once more. "I insisted on marriage just because it was practical under the circumstances!" After a moment of silent staring he received from the horse, he added "All right, so my own desire played part in it, too." He swallowed softly, once again returning to the patting. "And that is EXACTLY why it is my fault! And now...if they find her..." He looked away, not daring to finish the sentence. "Please," he whispered a moment later to the Powers that Be, closing his eyes, "…please don't let it be so. I am ready to bear ALL of the punishment. Just...just don't let her be harmed."

"We are ready, Legolas," came Aragorn's voice from behind him, then. The elf nodded without turning his back and swiftly mounted another horse, keeping Arod as his spare. He turned to regard the awaiting company. Gimli, Aragorn, Eomer, Boromir and Haldir. A moment later they, too, mounted their horses, grabbing the reins of their spares and nodding to him in confirmation. 

"Let us go, then," he said and softly kicked his horse, leading them out of the stables and out of the palace, breaking into a fast pace soon as the urgency of the situation only served to make him more vital by the moment. 

***


	31. I Was Lost, But Now I am Found

I know, I know! It has been too long! And yet….believe it or not, it was too hard to write. I don't know why. Perhaps because I did not want it to be too hasty and shallow and at a lack of details. And then I had to break it into two because it was too long. Anyways, the next chapter will most probably be the last one. Unless a Epilogue follows. 

Birthday child – I wish I could have posted the chapter sooner for your sake only. As it is, it came a few days too late. Accept it as a gift anyway. 

Ah the Prince on the white steed act. What courageous woman can resist?

She moved through the streets that seemed quite deserted compared to the night hours of the capital. Darkness had fallen and along with the slight drizzle, her cough had increased as well, leaving a nasty taste in her mouth. She felt a fever coming on, her limbs and her bones feeling weak and her body aching incredibly. No night fit for theft, then. She lacked the energy to go and pluck apples from an orchard or a back alley. So she went to the marketplace, hoping to stumble upon something worthy of eating. 

"I was better off as a servant," she mumbled to herself, tears of frustration begging for release. But Irulan pushed them down without mercy. "Look at me now!" she thought a moment later and the damn tears struggled upstream again. She halted in mid-step, massaging her face and feeling herself sway as drunkards and farmers passed by her. 

'If Legolas had been here, he would be worried out of his wits,' she thought then and a bitter chuckle escaped her throat. Oh yes, he would definitely be panicked. "What a silly elf!" she said and then chuckled some more. Light and darkness danced before her eyes as the past and the present began a waltz in her head. And in her sickened state, she actually saw Legolas striding to her, in his dark attire that he had worn the day she had first seen him in the tailor shop. She blinked in confusion, her mouth falling apart, her fever making her feel as she was swallowing lumps of coal. 

"Irulan," he said in urgency, his hair a silver flood down his shoulders, flowing out in soft waves in the middle of his back, "you are ill!"

She just looked at him with disbelief and he stepped closer, looking down at her with a blue gaze that was simply impossible to see on anyone else. "I shall take you to the palace immediately!" After a moment of hesitation he added "Fear not, for the healers shall not drug you again. I shall be with you Irulan," he whispered with a softer tone, his hand rising to her cheek, "always." 

She closed her eyes, swaying gently, expecting the gentle touch. But it never came. A harsh dread overcame her, at the realization that she had been seeing things. 'The fever again!' she thought as this time tears DID roll down her cheeks when her head fell forward, 'Nothing but an illness.' She sobbed softly, her illness and her hunger along with her tiredness and her terrible state fading to the background in their intensity compared to the longing, regret and shame she felt towards Legolas. 

"Lady Irulan?" said a voice suddenly and Irulan's hand dropped down to clear the view for a band of man. She blinked several times, then wiped her eyes, giving them another overall look. No, she did not know these men. And they did not look like people she wished to know, either. 

"What do you want?" she said, her voice shaking due to her last confrontation with nightmares a moment ago. 

"Who else?" one of the men said, grinning openly, his shoulder-length dark hair glimmering with its oily texture in the glimmer of the torches. "It IS you." His lazy grace swept her figure from head to toe and back. He scratched his chin then, squinting his eyes and looking away. "We have to talk my lady," he said with disinterest, his beady eyes taking in the surroundings. 

"How did you know who I am?" she said then with suspicion, for some reason feeling the faintest scent of fear tugging at her instincts. 

"Look at you!" the man said sheepishly. When she did not reply for a long time, he added "Now look around you. The distinction should be quite obvious, my lady," he said, rolling the word on his tongue in a serpentine way. 

Irulan took a step back. "What do you want?" she said then, a distant part of her brain registering the weakness in her legs and with it the fact that she would not escape them by running. 

"A little privacy with my lady," he said then as the men behind him broke into soft chuckles. "That's all."

She turned around then and began to walk away in haste, trying to cut through the throng. But she was not fast enough. She had met foul men before. And she had managed to fire back at them roughly enough. But she had been in the capital then and the sense of being in a familiar place with familiar people to turn to, had added a lot to her confidence. Here, she felt no such confidence. And as the hard object landed on her head, causing the world to grow darker and darker, she felt only stupefied beyond reason. Not afraid. Not yet, anyway. 

She woke up to a throbbing pain in her head. Soon another and sharper one coming from her hands accompanied it. Long moments passed as she listened to the duet of these two different pains. And both ended abruptly with another and far grander one as her head was pulled back by the roots and their eyes managed to flutter and open, finding the gaze of another pair. 

"Where is the gold?"

Irulan blinked in surprise. "W-what gold?" she managed to say finally, ignoring the burning in her lungs. A part of her brain realized that they were in a dimly lit room and that her hands were tied back on the post of one of the beds in it. 

"The gold that you have, woman!"

She took a deep, ragged breath. "I have no gold," she said with a tired sigh. 

That only earned her a slap in the face. And it was so unexpected that she failed to register the pain itself, but only the sizzling remnants of it as it stung on her cheek. She lifted up her eyes then and they locked with the gaze of the man again, though at this point she would have categorized him to be something far lower in nature. "Now......if you are smart you will tell us right away. Believe me, you do not want us to squeeze it out of you." With that, his gaze wandered over her figure and if she was afraid before, she was on the brink of panic now. She swallowed hard, then merely nodded. 

"Where," the man whispered and leaned in on her further, "is the gold, sweetheart?" With that he delivered a sharp but shallow cut on her neck, making her gasp with surprise. She felt the warm blood slowly licking her neck, pulsating with a buzz. The panic in her doubled instantly. They would cut her to pieces! They would cut her until she became unrecognizable and then only kill her! She whimpered despite herself, her head sinking. The fear was pulling at her like a whirlpool and it took a lot of strength not to give in to its alluring darkness. 

Irulan's brain was working like a device. 'What gold?!' screamed a part of her over and over again as options concerning this situation flew through her head. Did they think she was someone else? No, they knew her name and her city of departure, did they not? Then how come they did not know that she was a mere servant? Suddenly a thought occured to her. If they knew that she had been in the palace.......her face fell at the realization. They obviously thought that she had brought gold with her on her 'trip'.

Now......if they thought so, nothing she said would make them believe otherwise. She gulped again with the idea of what these men could do to her. And it took a lot of strength to overcome the panic trying to pull at her wits with sharp determinism. 

A long time passed as the knife of the man drew lazy circles on his palm, gleaming with an almost attractive sparkle in the dimly lit room. "I hid it," she whispered finally, her throat hurting beyond anything now. 

The man grinned with sly acceptance. "That is better," he said softly, sharing glances with his pals. "Much better, sweetheart." His knife traveled down her throat then, idly over the front of her tattered gown as Irulan was fixed on his eyes, unable to look away out of shear fear. 

"Where did you hide it, my love?" he said gently, the sharp edge scraping over her breasts and her stomach in lazy threat. 

"I......i-in the forest. I hid it in the forest," she whispered, a single tear finding her way down her cheek against all her control. This would not end well. Oh no, not well at all. 

"How very clever!" he whispered in amazement, his eyes never leaving hers. "But you will tell us, will you not, love?"

Irulan gulped again and tried to tremble less. She nodded curtly, trying to breathe normal, but failing bitterly. She had felt afraid before. But in the light of her current fear, all else shrank away.

The man grinned again. "Good. We shall not touch you then," he said with mock determination and his friends chuckled softly, shaking their heads. He turned to them with that terrible smirk again. "You hear?! No one touches Lady Irulan here!" They snapped to attention at that, yelling "Aye Captain!" and making her flinch with their attitude. 

***

"This is the Prince standing before you, you fool!" yelled Aragorn, his voice bouncing off the walls of the inn and becoming almost mighty in its intensity. "Don't you recognize him?!"

The innkeeper, already scared out of his wits by the company and the news and the look that the Prince was giving him which spoke of impatience and murder, fell to the floor, touching his forehead on the filthy floor, all the time bellowing words of the sincerest apology. Legolas heard none of it, as his eyes locked with Aragorn's and without any further words, the Chief Advisor shoved the innkeeper up and ahead to guide them to the mentioned room. After running up some stairs and walking down a corridor they arrived in a chamber that was similar to the rest in the inn – small, filthy and dark.

As Aragorn grabbed the man's arm to prevent him from running off (which seemed to be his intention) and dragged him in as the rest of the company followed. The innkeeper felt that the threat on his life was even greater now that they were in the very room of the argument and decided to continue his begging. He fell on his knees once more, bowing to his Majesty while his wife and his children had assumed a shy position by the door, watching the scene with alarm. Once again the Prince was completely oblivious to him and his blue eyes wandered around the chamber, over him and his family and the sparse furniture with the same blankness. His friends, too, stood in utter silence and watched him with as little emotion on their faces as Legolas himself. 

Finally it was Aragorn who hissed with impatience and reached down to grab the back of the man's shirt and haul him up. The fat innkeeper jerked up and back like a puppet, even though he was thrice the size of the Chief Advisor. His face was dark crimson and wet from his tears. 

"Sire!" he yelled, his eyes focused on the elf, whose blue orbs refused to meet his, still inspecting the room, reading the story written there as if reading a book. "I assure you, I had no idea! I swear on my mother's name!"

"Do not waste our time with this nonsense!" yelled Aragorn then, shaking him a little by the grip on the man's shirt and the innkeeper's head bobbed back and forth. But this did nothing to divert the man from his task. "Sire I swear! It was not an uncommon band of men! How would I know that-"

Legolas looked briefly on the floor, his trained mind inspecting the signs and tracks on the dusty floor, then began to walk and remained standing by the foot of one of the beds. With his motion, the keeper ceased to talk and a deep silence followed, accompanied by his whimpering and dampened crying of his family standing in the doorway. He crouched then, his fingers gliding over the wooden leg, further down, then hesitated as a frown settled on his features. A moment later his hand glided underneath it and slowly returned with a piece of rope. He slowly stood up as his company hastily strode towards him, inspecting the piece of discovery. 

"She was tied," whispered Haldir and his gaze went up to lock with the Prince's. 

"She struggled," Legolas whispered in return, his eyes wandering over the dried crimson of blood smeared on the piece of rope that he gracefully turned between his long fingers. 

A moment of utter stillness set in. And then the Prince was before the inkeeper, his hand grasping the throat of the man as his fingers became steel, casting a spell that suddenly drained all crimson from the man's face in the matter of seconds. The man's hands shot out of their own accord, clasping his as he tried to claw them away, his eyes locking with the blank and emotionless gaze of the Prince. A gurgling sound erupted from his throat as a slight blue wandered up his cheeks and his knees began to give away, causing his bulk of a body to sink to the floor. None of this changed the stance of the elf in the slightest, his face perfectly still and calm, his body poised in a graceful and slight arc, his left hand leisurely hanging to the side, the fingers still holding the piece of rope while his right hand remained locked on his prey's throat. 

If his friends had not intervened –all of them simultaneously- by pulling him apart from the man, a few more moments would have sufficed for him to reach his aim. As it was, he only protested with a low growl as his arms were bent and his body was dragged away to keep a safe distance between himself and the recent victim. 

After moments of silent struggle –to free himself and return his task of murder for the Prince and to return to his task of living for the inkeeper- finally Aragorn once again pulled the coughing man to his feet as Legolas locked eyes with him, his blue eyes almost burning in the dim light of the chamber. "SPEAK!" he hissed, the muscles of his neck pulsing with his struggle to break the grasp of Gimli, Haldir, Boromir and Eomer. 

"T-they left a few h-hours ago," spat the man, the blue in his face making him look almost inhuman as the wails of his wife and children filled the chamber. 

"Go on," growled Aragorn. 

"F-five of them. As you have described them......Sire," he coughed, "strangers....showing up late at night......" another coughing fit followed before the conclusion, "with the woman you are looking for." None broke in, so he continued, heaving with enormous gasps of breath: "She was not conscious when they brought h-her in."

"How did she look?" intervened Eomer despite himself. 

"I-ill," wheezed the man. He noticed not the alarmed looks he received in return, being too busy to stay alive. "That's why my wife offered her help." He locked eyes with the fuming Prince. "They refused, though. And then they left in the morning....just b-before you came. That's all I know."

"How was she in leaving?" grumbled Gimli then. 

"If possible, even worse," he sighed, finally having succeeded in the task of clearing his vision from the dark spots. Suddenly Legolas tried to charge at him again and the quartet of men barely managed to overcome his surprise attempt as the man jumped back instantly, almost running over the Chief Advisor. 

"Sire!" hissed Boromir, suppressing the urge to release the Prince and actually join him in the murder of this man, "We are only prolonging this!"

At that, the elf seemed to slacken a little, though none loosened their grip in fear that this was yet another pretense. 

"Go on!" barked Aragorn, grasping his collar once more and the man rattled on: "She was conscious then and.....and had......had......" he dared another glance at the Prince, then spat "bruises on her face."

A silence chocked the room as finally too terrorized to stay, the wife of the innkeeper gathered her children and ran off, her steps the only sound in the chamber. 

"They left together," he repeated finally, eager to give an end to things. 

It took them a few moments to pull themselves back together. "Where to? Speak or else I will kill you personally!" yelled Haldir, his elven voice a terrible thing when used so. 

"I saw them departing on the path that leads further east. They can not be far!" he shouted out of pure fear. 

The Chief Advisor pushed him away then, as the man stumbled forward, then hastily retraced his steps to stay away from the furious elf. "This tracking will be easier than most we have concluded, Legolas," he said in a soothing manner. "With tracks fresh as this, they can never evade us."

Legolas did not answer for another moment. Then his voice rang as icy as a voice can be: "Release me." None dared to challenge such a command, whatever the outcome. Slowly all hands drew away from him. He took a step towards the innkeeper, who –evading Aragorn's grip- once again fell onto his knees, begging for forgiveness and his life. But the elf moved no further. He locked eyes with the Chief Advisor and said "Blood will spill this day." All his friends present that day had fought many times with the Prince in far graver battles. They knew what that meant – no prisoners today. No questions. No second chances. No forgiveness. No mercy. 

As he turned around and left the chamber with long strides, the rest followed, none glancing back at the man left on the floor, crying like a little child. Only Aragorn remained, looking down at him with disgust. "You knew that she was held against her wish. You knew and you let it slip." The other man just took a deep breath, not moving and waiting for the Chief Advisor to continue. "You are lucky that the Prince has far more urgent matters on his mind. Though it reduces nothing from your crime and your shame." With that, he left the room as well, leaving the man in prayer for a chance to make amends.

*****

Irulan stumbled and losing her footing, fell, barely keeping her face from hitting the forest floor. She scrambled up to her feet in haste, not wanting anyone else to help her. Those hands should stay as far away from her as possible. She wiped her hands on her already very filthy skirts, casting sidelong glances at the present company, who seemed in no interest of her falling. A sigh escaped her lips, her fingers traveling up to her cheek, her mind very aware of the fact that she was ill and getting more so by the hour. This foolish wandering in the woods was not a good idea. Not at all. Soon enough they would understand that she had no hiding place and therefore, no gold. And then they would have a VERY long time and complete privacy to violate and beat her to death. 

She gulped, her throat burning. "I know Prince Legolas," she said suddenly, thinking that she might as well try her idle chances, since not trying them would not accomplish anything either. 

"So you do," mused the man, his gaze sweeping over her tattered gown. "How was the Ball, by the way? We were a bit hurt that we were not invited."

"He is expecting me to arrive somewhere. And I am already late. People will look for me," she said, ignoring his mocking. 

"Is that so?!" he said in alarm. "Oh my.....what will we do?" A moment of silence passed. Then he grinned even more openly. "Prince Legolas is in no state to help you, my fair lady," the man said then, continuing his idle walk. 

Irulan just looked at him with alarm, not knowing what that meant but certain that it was a lie. Their eyes locked again. "He is dying, you know."

Her feet froze with such strength, the other man who was pulling her by the arm remained frozen by her side. "You liar," she hissed, her eyes locked to the leader, certain that someone else must have uttered the words, since she was in no state of speaking. Something terrible was squeezing her heart. Her mind told her that it was a lie, but the pain in her heart overshadowed anything else. 

Surprised by her boldness, the man glanced at her for a moment. Then he smiled again, stepping closer as Irulan remained rooted. "Many things I am, love, but no liar," he whispered, his hand finding her chin and clamping it before pulling her face up for better inspection, his fingers leaving bruises on her face. 

"Liar!" she hissed again, unable to come up with anything else. It HAD to be a lie. Legolas could not...he simply could not....

His fingers glided to her throat then, squeezing gently as another set of purple bruises assaulted her skin. "And what reason do I have to lie to you?" he said in amazing calmness as Irulan did not register breath leaving her and tears stinging her eyes from the lack of it. "The Prince of Ithilien is very ill, Irulan," he whispered on, his gaze glued to hers. "They say he is fading. For days no one has seen his face. Not a great loss, if you ask me. Those elves should just leave Middle Earth altogether!" he hissed, his fingers growing stronger. But Irulan felt none of it. A terrible awareness came over her, then. 

"No," she tried to whisper, but her voice was no more. The man observed her for another moment, then slackened his grip and stepped away in disinterest. 

"Go on walking!" he barked, "I do not have all day!"

It was over. Everything was over. There simply was no point in continuing. To everyone's utter surprise she sank to the damp forest floor, unexpected sobs shaking her frame. The men observed her in amazement, looking at each other. "Get up!" the leader barked again, but Irulan only continued to cry, her fingers forming fists and squeezing the dark forest dirt underneath them. "NO!" she screamed finally. True surprise washed over his features as she looked up at him with incredibly dark orbs. They stared at each other for long moments while the rest of the men shifted on their feet, disturbed by her attitude as well as her tone of voice ringing in the silent forest. 

"You little witch!" he hissed and grabbed her arm, pulling her up. Another slap landed on her face, though once again, surprisingly she felt nothing. 

He remained frozen when she gave him that look again. "Kill me then," she whispered in utter calmness. 

He pushed her away with disgust. "Oh I will," he said with a dangerously low voice. "I will. But first you will take me to the gold, Irulan."

She just smiled back in return, then leisurely shook her head. "I don't think so," was her amused reply. 

Hate twisted his features then. "So be it," he said, stepping closer to her and grabbing the front of her gown, pulling her closer. "Let us hear how long you can scream before you give in!" he said, slapping her again and ripping the front of her gown, exposing a good amount of cleavage. Irulan gasped in shock and tried to break free, but felt herself pushed hard as she stumbled back and her head hit a tree, her eyes instantly tending to flutter close. She tried to stand up, but her body seemed to be incredibly disoriented and none of her limbs were where they were supposed to be. She saw him producing another rope. "Tie her!" he barked to the man who had been leading her by the arm. "I don't want her to scratch my face when I am working on her!" he added with sick amusement.

The man looked at the rope in his hands and back up, then at Irulan, who was still trying to get up, but failing at it. "Listen Captain Sidar......I think we should first find the gold and then-"

"TIE HER!" he yelled, his voice ringing even higher in the forest. "I will make sure that she will still be capable of speaking afterwards," he hissed with a terrible smirk. 

"Sidar," said another man but Sidar had no intention of listening. "You will all have your share, trust me," he said then, still amused and still locked to her eyes. "Many times before the day is over." He locked eyes with the man again, then. "Now TIE HER!" The man jumped slightly and turned to her as Irulan finally managed to stand up on shaken feet, the back of her head feeling numb and sticky. She locked eyes with her captor and her gaze glided to the rope in his grip. Odd enough, she did not care. For she was absolutely certain that she would not feel a single thing. Her mind was not here. It was roaming the empty corridors of the palace in Ithilien. 

He walked closer as she just looked with blank eyes, feeling like crying out of sheer agony at the thought of having deserted Legolas to his death. "How much more stupid can one be?" she thought. "I am stupid beyond any measure. Legolas, forgive me."

And then something very strange happened. The man fell on her, dragging a surprised Irulan to the floor with him. Pressed down under his weight and momentum, she tilted backwards and then hit the forest floor with a nasty thud, feeling the branches and roots cutting into her skin. Irulan cried out with the surprisingly sharp pain and her disorientation returned instantly, the world growing darker and darker by the moment. She let go of trying then, and closed her eyes, expecting to be roughly turned over and tied. It must have been her distorted perception, for nothing seemed to happen for a very long time. A part of her mind decided to slip away into the comforting dark, not caring. Another part of it was under the spell of curiosity, and it was this part that ordered her to open her eyes and look around. Only her eyes, once closed, refused to open. 

"Sleep," said her inner voice with soothing calmness. "Sleep, Irulan. Life is but only a dream." It sounded so wonderful a thing to do. She did not care about her current state or the fact that a man was lying on top of her, or that she was about to be tortured and killed. Sleep seemed a very fitting thing. 

"Sleep," it said again and Irulan felt even more compelled to do so. Her senses were dulled and dampened. She felt no pain and no discomfort. Yes, she would definitely sleep. 

And then someone ruined her peace. She felt the weight lifting off her and herself being roughly pulled up. Her eyes fluttered then, but would still not open. The wish to sleep became a desire. If she could sleep through the upcoming events, she might as well survive them. Not that it meant anything any longer. But once again her comfort was shaken off her as she felt herself being shaken, an earthquake traveling through her, pushing the darkness away. "No," she moaned, trying to recede back into the darkness, with no success. 

"Open your eyes!" a voice commanded and her eyelids tried to obey as her mind stubbornly tried to do just the opposite. 

"No!" she wheezed again, clasping at the darkness, trying to pull herself into it. They would not let her!

"Open your eyes, Irulan!" it commanded again and this time, though she fought hard not to, her eyes obeyed, a sharp light finding her way into her eyes, slashing through her brain. She tried to look away, or close them again, but had not control over her physical motions any longer. "No, keep them open. Look at me," it said then and Irulan realized with horror that she would obey, though she wished nothing more than not to. 

"Look at me," it said again, softer this time and she felt her head tilted to meet a blue gaze. It looked strangely familiar, though her mind failed to grasp it at that moment. 

"Do you hear me?" 

Irulan just looked, trying to blink to overcome the stinging of her eyes. She wanted to scream for him to go away, to leave her alone. But he was damn stubborn. "Can you hear me, Irulan?" it said again and as with her eyes, her mouth decided to be independent.

"I......do," she whispered, amazed that she had succeeded in such a thing. 

"Keep your eyes open, my love. You have a wound on the head."

It was then that she finally realized how strange the whole thing was. "Am I.......dreaming?" she whispered, trying to swallow, but the lump in her throat was too big to be swallowed. 

"No. I am here. It is over," he said and she did recognize the voice of Legolas, though that was impossible. 

"I'm......dead," she said then, her brows furrowing at the surprise of such a realization. 

"No!" it said with urgency. She was lifted further, then and leaned back in a sitting position, the world whirling madly at that. Many minutes later it slowly stopped spinning and her gaze rested on the face of Legolas who stood surprisingly close to her. "Sssshhhh," he said, wiping the blood away from her face. "Be still."

Irulan felt a string of sobs rising in her then. And like with anything else, she was incapable of stopping them as well. Her head fell down as her body shook with them and her hands would not cover her face. Legolas embraced her and she realized with dismay that it DID feel very much like him, since no one else would embrace her like that. That only made her cry harder. He stroked her back, whispering something, though she did not know what it was. "Legolas," she whispered, the dread chocking her. 

"I am here," he said softly, amazed that he was still able to speak. "I am here. It is over." He wiped the blood on his hand on his leggings, not wishing for her to see it and refused to look away from her face, although the pain he felt by doing so was almost unbearable. But with the pain at the purple bruises and her crimson cuts and her overall appearance of a battered and famished body, came a pleasure like no other, mainly at her sight after such a long interval. 

Oh how he had missed her! And how amazing it was to miss someone so much, especially when that someone was so new an acquaintance and when it had been only a few days. But then......their spirits knew each other for countless lifetimes and it should be only understandable to burn with longing at the lack of a partner that completed one so. 

He silently thanked the blanket of calmness that had taken hold of his psyche right after they had heard the first screams and yelling in the silent forest, their volume indicating that the party could not be too far. Legolas had feared to lose all control over himself at such a moment, but just the opposite happened - he went numb and as cold as a piece of ice, all feelings pushed aside and all panic effectively stuffed away as he jumped from his horse and drawing his double knives, broke into a silent run with the rest of his company following at his heels. The feeling of battle overwhelmed him as it had done many times before, Irulan and his current aim momentarily forgotten as his mind only focused on practical and technical details of murder. 

A hazy storm followed then, that seemed almost timeless - a heap of frozen images. He remembered finding the group of men and Irulan, at the verge of something terrible happening. His mind carefully avoided what that could be and what he would have found if he but arrived merely minutes later. Instead, he dropped the last of his sentiments and became the cold blade itself, that glimmered a dull glow in his hand. 

And there was much color - a dark crimson pulsating in sync with the rhythm of his own heart, drawing arcs in the air or splattering softly on the moist floor, or gently dripping from the bark of trees. Words of pleading reached his ears, but bounced off his thick shell of ruthless determinism. No prisoners today. No mercy. No forgiveness. He was no Prince of Ithilien seeking solution. He was a man seeking justice and justice told him that someone who treated Irulan so deserved the crudest of deaths. 

Finally when it was over, as his whole being shaking with the surge of energy and sentiments flowing through it he had glanced around, meeting the eyes of the others and he knew that their spirits spoke the same thing. They were like musical instruments, finely tuned for a common task and having finished the symphony they had meant to play, a sense of completeness and deep satisfaction came over them. He instantly jumped to where he knew Irulan was, then, literally throwing away the corpse on her to dig her out. At the realization that she was heavily wounded, and yet alive and bound to stay so, he closed his eyes, exhaling something that HAD to be far more than a mere breath. It was more like fuming, bitter poison, burning his lungs and eating his insides. He exhaled it and only then dared to open his eyes, the love that he felt for Irulan becoming something incredibly mighty. So grand that it blocked out everything else in its perimeter. As she cried and whined and tried to retreat into sleep, he knew with certainty that he would never leave Irulan again. Not for anything and not for any price. Not if the Valar demanded it, or the Dark Lord appeared or the entire of Middle Earth asked for it. All he wanted to do was to hold her and kiss her over and over again, the frustration in him giving fuel to the fire of passion in him. And the only thing that kept him from doing so was her obvious physical state. 

Irulan cried for a long time as her senses sharpened again, the beckoning sleep evading her grasp. She begged Legolas to let her sleep but that only served the elf to shake her awake further. "You have to stay conscious!" he yelped finally, his own panic and fear becoming something incredibly strong with each moment. Irulan cried harder, knowing that this could not be Legolas, but that she was caught in a nightmare she could not wake up from. 

"Let me sleep," she tried again and the Prince lifted her up to her feet, encircling her waist as her body refused to stand up and tried to glide back. He stubbornly kept her upright until she felt feeling returning to her feet. "Stand!" he commanded, but it was beyond her. Irulan whimpered and tried to step away against all odds. "Here," he said, completely disinterested in her struggle and held her up again. Her vision darkened and she thought that she would faint, but she did not and Legolas kept her upright while she leaned on him and the feeling of her limbs slowly returned to her. Her legs were shaking with weakness, but at least now she could feel them. 

He picked her up and sat her down by the tree again, then and with the blood flow, the fog on her mind cleared up further. She just observed him in awe as he ran his hands over her body, trying to locate any further wounds. So certain she had been that she would never see Legolas again, that it was hard to believe him to be really there. His gaze moved up to her throat and he gently tilted her head, inspecting the cut and the bruises. Then he locked eyes with her and moved closer, laying his palm on her cheek. Neither said anything for a long time. 

"You will not tell me how magnificent I look?" she whispered then with a husky voice. The elf's eyebrows rose slightly with surprise at that and he smiled a bitter smile. 

"Nay," he said finally, "today it would be an understatement."

Irulan laughed softly then and then yelped as a pain ran through her ribs. But unable to stop herself, she continued chuckling as Legolas steadied her, smiling along. Many moments later she found the strength to embrace him as Legolas embraced her back, trying very hard to keep his strength at bay. "Legolas," she whispered, cherishing the fact that he was here in her embrace, "Legolas, you are really here!"

The Prince exhaled in relief. It was hard to stay calm at the sight of her wounded state and he only managed because he was afraid to alarm her. "Yes I am. I am, Irulan," he said finally, feeling at the verge of tears for no apparent reason. 

Irulan pulled back a little, looking at him with teary eyes, her fingers sweeping over his cheekbone. She surprised him by embracing him again and giving him a hearty kiss on the cheek. "Are you well, Legolas? Are you?!" she said in an urgent, low voice. 

The elf blinked and gave her an amazed look. "You are asking MY state when you just survived certain death?"

She waved his argument away. "He....he......" she began, waving her arm in the direction the captain had been, her voice shaking incredibly, "he said that.......that you were ill!" She broke into sobs again. "I felt so terrible! I wanted to die!"

Legolas suddenly embraced her hard enough to make her wince as another wave of pain ran through her ribs, but Irulan bit it down. "Stop!" he said with urgency, "Do not speak so!"

She looked up then. "Were you really ill?" she said with terror. 

Legolas smiled and looked down at their entwined hands. "I was lost," he said then, his gaze lifting up and scanning the peaceful forest around them. "But now I am found," he said, locking eyes with her again. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, as light and soft as can be, so that he would not cause any pain. 

"So am I," Irulan said, squeezing his hand harder. 

The elf kissed her hand again. And again. He embraced her and kissed her neck as Irulan only felt even worse at his concern and tenderness. "Legolas," she began, choking on her words, but he raised his hand, stilling her. 

"Allow me to take you to the nearby town. Allow me, Irulan, please. We shall talk later. Please."

She opened her mouth to answer, but a nasty cough came out instead. "I.....I think that might be.....wise," she winced to the widened eyes of the Prince. 

A long moment of silence passed as he finally urged down the question whether she was ill or not, in fear that she would say yes – it most definitely looked like she would. He forced a small smile on his lips and then lifted her up as she leaned her head on his chest, beyond happy that this terrible trip was now over and that Legolas was there to take care of her and everything else. Suddenly wondering about her captors she lifted her head but Legolas swiftly turned away, walking in another direction. "Do not look, Irulan. It is not a nice sight."

"They are.....dead?" she whispered, her eyes glued to his as she felt afraid to spot something terrible and in her fear did not look away from him. 

The Prince nodded curtly. "To say the least," he added with a hiss as Irulan gulped at his expression. 

"They knew me, Legolas," she said then, frowning. "They wanted some gold.....but I don't understand how-"

"Your family has hired them," he said then with a sharp expression, gazing down at her. 

Irulan's mouth dropped open. "T-they......WHAT?!" The elf nodded only, alarmed to have invoked her so, but knowing that it was inevitable. She did not say anything for a long moment as he carried her further through the forest, where they had dismounted their horses for more quiet approach. "I did not know they hated me this much," she whispered finally, feeling a strange sadness. 

He embraced her harder, then. "I will not let this slip by, Irulan. Not this time. Not even for you."

She blinked and thought about her family being punished. Alright, so they deserved it. But she had lived with them too long to not react to the idea more or less. "But Legolas," she whispered in urgency. 

"No," he said curtly. "Leave the punishment to me," he added then, looking down at her again. "You are too merciful, Irulan."

"Well well well.......," came Haldir's voice suddenly as she turned to see him stroking the neck of his horse. "It was about time, Prince Legolas. I almost thought you two were...." Legolas gave him an icy stare and he chuckled, shaking his head. 

Irulan looked with astonishment at the present company. "You all came?" she said, not knowing what else to say. 

"Unfortunately there was not enough to kill for all of us," said Gimli to that. "So we had to hack away what was already down. Eh.......to cool our fury, Lady Irulan," he added when Legolas this time gave him the stare. 

"Are you well? Did they do anything to you?" hissed Aragorn, approaching them and looking down her face. Astounded by his concern she just shook her head. 

"They did not touch you, did they?" he said, his blue gaze still fixed on her. 

"N-no," stammered Irulan. 

"Good," he said in relief. "Or else I would have to go back and hack some more." He winked at the frustrated Prince and returned to his horse. 

"What on earth were you doing in the forest anyway!" boomed Boromir suddenly, surprising everyone and making Irulan jump a little. 

She glanced up at Legolas, who looked down at her with equal surprise. "I was," she began cautiously but Boromir cut her off:

"Women! Running around in Middle Earth like some......fool!" he added, unable to come up with anything else. 

"Captain Boromir!" hissed the Prince, but the man was too worked up to stop. 

"Sire, look at her! With no food. No clothing. No money! This was bound to happen sooner or later."

"Well I......" Irulan tried again, feeling Legolas tense distinctively. 

"No more traveling for you, that's for sure," the man mumbled and turned his back to her. She glanced at Legolas again, but the elf was fixed on the First Captain with clear disbelief on his features. "If you want to go, we will have to find someone to accompany you. And no more talk about 'I don't need a man' foolishness, either."

"That's quite enough, Boromir!" exclaimed Legolas then, his voice like a sharp knife. "That is for ME to decide."

Boromir turned around with a surprised look then and his eyes took in the rest of the company watching him in awe. "Yes of course, Sire," he whispered, swallowing hard and more than alarmed that he had actually made said speech a moment ago. 

Legolas almost rolled his eyes, but managed to resist the temptation and instead gave the captain one last frosty glance, then proceeded to mount his horse. He did so with a single graceful movement, with Irulan still in his arms. He gently lay her to sit sideways on the horse, leaning on his arm and chest while he picked the reigns with his free hand. She clutched at his shirt, a little bewildered at sitting on a horse again, but other than that, reacted surprisingly calm. "I can sit straight, Legolas," she said then but he shook his head. 

"Nay. This is more comfortable for you. He leaned his forehead on hers, hesitating for a moment, then leaned down and placed the softest kiss on her lips. It was wrong perhaps – since she might feel uncomfortable at such intimacy so soon. But the happiness of finding her after terrible nightmares ate at his very spirit for hours was too powerful and devastating a thing. Her taste was invaded with the coppery taste of blood and he released the reigns, wiping her lower lip gently. "It is my fault," he whispered then. "I should have never let you go." Irulan opened her mouth to reply, but Legolas stilled her by placing his finger on her lips. "I shall make amends, Irulan. But do not speak yet. We will be in the town shortly and you can speak anything once you are rested, my love."

"Whatever you say," sighed Irulan, placing her head on his chest again. "I hope I will remember all when I wake up, Legolas." A sleep came over her again, but the elf shook her awake once more. 

"You can not sleep. It may be dangerous. Remain until we reach the town, Irulan," he said with urgency. She nodded, fighting the urge to drift away, but finding it extremely hard to do so. "Tell me of your travels," he said then, setting the horse into a soft gallop. 

"What travels?"

"Your last three days," he said, looking down at her in alarm, not knowing how to success in the task of keeping Irulan awake for a few more hours while she must be incredibly tired. 

"You mean my trip to Mordor?" she mumbled and he chuckled despite himself. "Legolas! Middle Earth is a terrible place! And I am so........incapable! Three days on the road and I almost died. I mean even before they came.......I was simply......at the end of my strength!" The elf listened with rapt attention while his horse broke into a soft gallop towards the town they had left a few hours ago. And it was an effort to listen, since his mind was singing and pulsing with happiness at the unbelievable relief of having Irulan back in his arms again. 

*****


	32. A New Day Has Dawned

So the latest chapter. And STILL not the last one! That is because I refuse to end it with a simple summary. It may seem too fluffy for some. Too cliché for others. And yet again……it is only fitting for a fairy tale in my eyes. I can only hope that you will agree. 

This one is for all how have patiently read, pondered, written, expected and hoped. 

Needless to say that when they returned to the inn, they were treated with unparalleled enthusiasm. Irulan was more than impressed, but Legolas only have the innkeeper icy stares refusing to warm up his attitude as the other struggled like a madman to keep them happy and satisfied. 

Irulan actually was a little fearful of stepping into the same building again and only relented because it gave the promise of sleep. Thankfully the man was wise enough not to put them in the same room, and the sparse and rather clean chamber they walked in offered some comfort. 

All others stayed only for some more moments, assuring her of her safety, then dispersed into their own rooms while Legolas remained. He walked over to the already prepared and filled large tub that had been standing in the adjoining room (this being one of the very special rooms in the inn with its private bath), dipping his fingers into it. Satisfied, he turned to look at Irulan who was sitting on the bed, about to fall asleep. Upon his inspection she blinked and tried to battle sleep once more. "It holds no comparison to the palace bath, but it will do for now, Irulan," he said gently. 

At the thought of warm water and an actual bath, Irulan woke up a little. "Alright," she managed to mumble. 

A moment later she looked up to find Legolas standing before her, gazing down with slight hesitation in his eyes. If not for her current state, his silent ways would have startled her, no doubt. "I will assist you. That is, if you don't mind," he said softly, trying very hard to suppress his anxiety. 

Irulan smiled, then. He was being the perfect man again. "Please do so," she whispered. 

He knelt in front of her then, and without further hesitation, slowly began to undress her, peeling the filthy, tattered gown from her. Irulan was simply too tired to help. Or to feel embarrassed. Or exposed. Besides, it would be foolish to feel so with Legolas, after all the intimacy. Legolas, on the other hand, barely kept himself from grasping her shoulders and shaking her in anger. Three days ago she was healthy and well. This body in front of him was far from that now. No matter what the urgency, Irulan had no right to treat herself this way. Not to mention, treat HIM this way, for even though she might feel complete disinterest in her own state, Legolas found it painful for the lack of a better word just to see her like this. Afraid to tip the delicate and tense balance that had emerged between them, he pursed his lips to still his temper and picked her up, seating her in the tub. 

Irulan sighed and let him rub her clean. "You do this so well," she said, once more at the verge of sleep, but the elf kept shaking her awake. 

"Not before I can inspect and tend to your wound, my love," he said. She nodded with disappointment. 

Legolas took her back to the bed, dried her and produced a different gown. When she raised her eyebrows in surprise, he smiled and said "I assure you that I was in no state of thinking about such essential details. My staff certainly deserves all the praise they get."

He dressed her then –loosely only so that he could still reach her injuries- and Irulan was amazed how much she was eager to put on a gown. Her gaze wandered to the old one, standing in a heap beside her bed. "It was so pretty. And a gift from you. I ruined it," she said almost inaudibly, something so little and ordinary striking such sadness in her. 

Legolas followed her gaze as he was smoothing the back of her dress on her shoulders. He shook his head, a little amused. "Leave it be," he whispered gently. "It is nothing worthy to occupy your mind." 

Having finished his task, he halted, his hands stilling on her shoulders as a tired Irulan, her back turned to him, swayed softly, drifting in and out of sleep once more. "You are safe now," he said, aware that Irulan heard none of it in her daze, "that is all that matters." He leaned his forehead on the back of hers, his face leaning into and remaining in her dark, damp mass of hair that was now clean enough to show that her head wound was not a dangerous one. 

Legolas had tended to himself and to others in battlefields often enough. And yet, this incident proved to be so much harder than those. He did not know the where the line between them stood. He did not know if he should draw back or advance. If he was pushing her into discomfort again or neglecting her. If he was supposed to keep a comfortable distance or get rid of all distances between them. His boldness had been the cause for all this, and yet, as disgusting and offending and terrible as that was, he simply felt incapable of being anything but bold in Irulan's presence. 

It was not fair to demand such strength from him. From him, who was as weak as a man could be in the presence of Irulan. He should be civilized, no? He should give her time. And freedom. And everything else. But……..damned be everything, he simply could NOT. He could not pretend that he did not want her. That he did not need her more than air itself. That he was drained and famished with the longing for her. It had been easy to draw back and let go when she was gone. But at her sight, he found it impossible not to revert to his former fiery mood. A mood that beckoned him to let everything go in the blink of an eye. Everything, just to be with her.  

Legolas sighed in frustration, keeping his hands on her shoulders so that they would not glide around her waist to draw her back to him, afraid that this kind of contact would ruin their tentative relationship. In his mind he leaned in and kissed her nape, encircling her waist and pulling her closer. So close that all distance vanished between them, her warmth mingling with his and her smell invading his mind. And Irulan did not mind. She was actually comfortable and relieved in his arms, with not the slightest indication of tenseness or dislike. She even leaned back on him as Legolas kissed her neck, the familiar taste of her skin causing a havoc in his mind. 

But in reality none of those things happened. In reality Legolas only sighed once more, then began the gentle task of tending to her wounds with the special elven balms and herbs he had brought with him, along with the description of their nature and usage by the healers themselves.

"Turn around my love," he said and she complied. And then "Lie back. Does this hurt? I am almost done." And then "Hold still, Irulan. How on earth did you get these marks?"

"I think some plant in the forest, Legolas," she mumbled, drifting off again. 

"No, not that way. Lie the other way. What about…..what exactly IS this?"

"I don't know, Legolas. Perhaps it is a reaction to food?"

"Or the lack of it," was his dry reply. 

Irulan slept through most of it, or rather tried to. She woke up to his touch on her inner thigh. Her eyelids fluttered open as she found herself lying comfortably on her back, the sheets drawn back and the skirts of her gown pushed away as Legolas was sitting by her side, looming over her. 

"This looks like a leaf," he said with a penetrating smile, tracing his fingers over the mark on her inner thigh. 

"Birthmark," she whispered and swallowed softly, a little bewildered at his touch on it. 

"A forest fairy's mark, then," he said with a low and bemused voice, his eyes looking unnaturally intense in the candlelight. Irulan laughed softly despite her tiredness. "One that has stolen my heart with her spell in the woods," he added then and Irulan opened her eyes to meet his gaze as Legolas remained in his state, his fingers tracing the outline of her mark, his eyes glued to hers and his figure leaning over her. 

"I am far from a fairy, Legolas," she managed to stammer then. 

"Aye," he sighed a moment later, "a goddess is what you are."

Her eyes widened as a blush crept up her face and she turned it in haste, not knowing what else to do. 

"Stop seducing me like that, Irulan," the Prince said with amusement, watching her blush grow deeper. 

"I……I….." she stammered, still unable to face him, in awe of his attitude towards her. Disappointment in her was expected. Anger, yes. Disapproval of her foolish attempts, most definitely. But what was this that he did instead? 

"Rest now, Irulan," he said then, his hand gliding over her forehead and wiping the hair from her face as the sheets were pulled over her.

And who could resist such an offer? Irulan fell asleep almost instantly, a deep and dark slumber claiming her as, for the first time in days, she felt safe and comfortable. She woke up the next morning, as the sky was yet dark and in preparation for dawn. She realized that Legolas was sitting by her bedside, wiping her face with something cool. As her eyes became accustomed to the relative darkness and the fact that she was awake now, she saw him smiling and ceasing his task. 

"How do you feel?" he said after a long moment of silent staring. 

She just swallowed and looked out of the window, where the faintest of lights had begun to emerge. 

"Your fever was high and you spoke in your sleep," he said with a tinge of alarm, then, trying very hard to suppress the need to haul Irulan onto a horse and gallop full speed to the palace where the healers were. 

"It is alright," she mumbled, biting her lower lip. "I feel better now. Far better. I am healing, Legolas."

His fingers found hers and he placed a warm, strong kiss in her palm. "How long before your heart heals from my deeds, Irulan?" he said softly into the dark. 

She turned to look at him, but he was shrouded too much in darkness to read his elven blankness. Irulan sat up then and he helped to put the pillows behind her back and her head as she leaned back on the bedboard. Another silence followed. Suddenly he spoke again, his voice so low and gentle, and yet his words vibrating in her mind with a strange buzz. "Return to me," he said with a heavy whisper. Irulan blinked in surprise and he resumed his play with her fingers before he lifted her hand up to kiss her palm once more. "I have been selfish. I have been thoughtless. I have treated you rough and without thinking. And I have made too many promises that I failed to keep. And yet......" he looked up at her and she marveled at the tone of blue in his eyes that was evident even under this light, "return to me," he finished with a whisper. "One last promise to change all that, Irulan. If you will place faith in it."

Her hand that was entwined in his, released itself and found his cheek as a surprised Legolas leaned in to the touch. He locked eyes with her, wanting nothing more than to lean in and kiss her till she relented, but too shaken and at a loss of self-confidence to do so. "You have been none of those things, Legolas," she said then softly and he swallowed, wishing madly for her words to be honest, but unable to put hope in that wish. "I love you. You are and will always be perfect to me."

His eyes widened and trying to keep his actions at bay, he crouched closer, his fingers gliding over her cheekbone after a moment's hesitation as their faces were merely inches apart. "I love you too," he whispered, thinking that at the moment, it was a huge understatement. "Your absence was unspeakable pain, Irulan." She swallowed and looked away then. "What is it that is keeping us from re-uniting?" he said, finding her hand again and not daring to let the subject go. 

"My shame," she said, covering her face with her other hand as she took a deep, ragged breath. He opened his mouth, but momentarily shocked and surprised by her words, he could only look at her agape before Irulan removed her hand and continued: "I am so weak, Legolas," she cried as he felt alarm at her deepening grief once more. "I am so weak!"

"Nay," he stammered, still not in complete understanding of her meaning, "you are n-"

"Yes I am!" she whined and looked away, trying to breathe. "Look at what my weakness has done to us! My indecisiveness! My foolish passions! My fears, lies, hypocrisy! How can you ever trust me again?!"

She felt his fingers on her chin then, and he forced her to look back at him. Irulan met his eyes and her whining dampened at the sight of anger and passion in them. "You know I detest it when you speak so of yourself," he hissed as she sat, unable to look away. 

"It is true. You should pick another," she said then, trying to free herself, but his grasp was too strong. "An elf perhaps. It is a curse to be human!"

Legolas moved closer yet and she instantly ceased her struggle when, in the blink of an eye, he stood nose to nose with her, gazing down at her with that blue fire again. He clenched his jaw then and tilted a little back, trying to regain control. "NEVER say that again," he whispered and looked up at her, as the silent fury was still evident in his look. "Such distinctions do not become you, Irulan." She swallowed softly at his tone as he blinked and softened his voice: "You were not so when I met you."

"After all my deeds, I think it is understandable to have a change of mind about oneself," she mumbled then, afraid to say it louder as the sharp aura still emanated from the elf. 

"I choose you," he said a long moment later as her breath caught in her throat. "No matter what, I choose you."

"But-" she began finally, not sure how to continue.

"None of this," he said then, his voice growing more determined with each word, "is your fault, Irulan. It is mine. I am the ruler of grand kingdoms. But I failed to be the ruler of my own desires." Under his disbelieving look, he dared to continue: "I would have deserted someone like me, too." She tried to intervene but he held up his hand. "I am the Prince, Irulan. I am the man. *I* pursued you and *I* promised to take care of everything. *I* asked for your trust." He shook his head with disappointment. "I should have known better. Far better. But my passion and greed clouded my vision. My emotions distorted my view." He sighed and picked up her hand again. "It shall never be so again. I promise, though how assuring that is, I do not know," he added with a bitter tinge. 

They sat there in a long silence as Irulan was convinced that Legolas was no elf. He was........something else. Something definitely not like the rest of the world. Perhaps one of the Valar themselves? "But Legolas," she said then with a timid voice, "I made a deal behind your back to gain my freedom!"

"Yes but that was before we became......close," he said in urgency, sitting up slightly to be yet closer to her and to glide closer to her warmth as his fingers entwined with hers once more. "And it is the most natural thing. *I* would have agreed on such a deal, too! You were living the life of a prisoner, Irulan." His fingers found her cheek as the touch itself sufficed to hasten his heart. Suddenly it occurred to him that Irulan indeed might have left for far different reasons than he had believed her to. And that would be…….well……downright……FOOLISH! He knew he had made a mistake by letting her go so unattended and unprepared. But if that was the case……then he had been mistaken to let her go in the first place!

"You..." she began, waking him up from his daze, then swallowed softly and tried to continue: "……you do not hate me?" 

Legolas stared back in pure disbelief. "Hate you?" he whispered then, "How can you think such a terrible thing? Do you think my love so playful and passing?" At her clear discomfort and lack of understanding, he sighed and continued: "Nothing could cause a change of my feelings so. I have immense faith in you. Whatever you do – WHATEVER, Irulan, I am more than certain that you have good reasons for it. It was no promise when I said that I shall love you for all times. It was......" he gazed around the room, to find something to aid his expression of words, "it was only the statement of a natural fact." She looked at him, swallowing hard, feeling so small and useless and crude next to a creature like this. "You are like rain to the draught that I am, Irulan. It is my sincere wish that you will never experience the fierce longing and hunger I feel for you. I hope that your heart is more merciful on you. It is not an easy pain to bear," he finished with a whisper. 

"I thought....." she said and swallowed again, "I thought you......"

His fingers rested on her lips and she became quiet, still unable to look at him. "What a fool I am!" he said softly, his eyes wandering over her features. "I shoved you and urged you and pushed you......all for the wrong reasons. And then....just when I needed to insist, when I needed to hang on.....I let go," he whispered, something like awe clouding his voice. "I let go. For I believed YOU did not want me." 

"What?!" she whispered back in amazement. "L-Legolas......that is not true," she hissed in urgency. 

He looked at her for a long moment, unable to grasp the situation. How did they end up here? How come something so simple and innocent had become so complicated a thing. "But....you......I forced you to......"

"No. I mean yes, you did push a little. But I would have refused. I would, believe me. But I did not. Because *I* wanted to. I wanted to..." she swallowed again, hear eyes gliding towards the twilight of dawn, ".....to be your wife."

Someone cut off his breath then. And the sensation that swept over him was a whirl, a storm, a dance. Relief was in it. And hope. He recognized surprise, disbelief and shock. He also picked out regret for the lost time between them, as well as the alarm at what could have happened if the Valar had not decided to arrange another meeting between them. And then there was love. Passion and longing and adoration. 

"I still have none," he managed to choke out, his brain not really registering his words. 

Irulan's head snapped up and her gaze met his, clear surprise on her features. After a moment or two, she pursed her lips to keep down a merciless laugh. "Really?" she sniffed instead. He shook his head softly, his eyes glued to her. "I was certain that you would marry at the end of this Ball, Legolas."

"So was I," he whispered, his grip on her hand slightly growing. 

"And she ran off," she said then, unable to look away from Legolas who was looking at her as if he intended to own her soul. "What a terrible woman!" she added then, amusement slightly twisting the corner of her lips. 

"Nay, do not speak so of her," he whispered, feeling himself in a daze. The daze of being with Irulan after he had believed her lost forever. The daze of incredible relief and happiness at her safety and –dared he think it- her acceptance of giving him a second chance. The daze of a possible future just the way he had imagined – an era of love and dedication.

"But she sounds so.......selfish," said Irulan, suppressing the laughter still and bringing him back to the present. 

"Free-spirited," he whispered, his heart aching incredibly as his lungs refused to draw enough breath, the combination making him dizzy.  
  


"Hmmmm......more like foolish."

"Nay. Adventurous."

"Aw come on, Legolas. She definitely must be BEYOND ignorant to do such a thing."

"Courageous," was his soft reply as his whole being screamed with the need to declare his passion, his longing and his unending love for her. He wanted to run out and keep running to shed the energy that was shaking him at the moment. Run over dark plains, run through lush forests, run over rocky hills.  

Irulan chuckled softly then. "And after all this.....you STILL want her back?" she said in amazement. 

Legolas kissed her hand fiercely, closing his eyes as hope pulsed through him like waves of earthquakes, and though a cautious side refused to give in to such dreams, his spirit was simply swept away with the tidings of it. "More than life itself," he whispered as he looked up again. 

"This is important, Legolas," she managed to stammer a moment later, finally able to breach his intense gaze. "You must understand that I ran not out of anything else but my shame to face you. I thought...." 

"Ssssshhhhh," he said, wiping her hair from her face. His long, soft fingers glided down, tracing the scar on her neck. The energy and urgency in him won the battle in that instant and he leaned in to kiss the spot over and over again, burning to kiss her lips but barely keeping himself from doing so at the sight of her cuts and bruises on them. Irulan closed her eyes, amazed at the fact that Legolas was very able to wake the fire in her, even in her current state. Her fingers glided into his hair, gaining a loose embrace on his neck. 

Irulan pulled their hands to herself then and kissed his hand as he gasped softly in surprise. She glided her fingers through his hair again, then, wishing nothing more to let go. To let Legolas take care of everything. To let him make all the decisions. He was far better and wiser at it than herself, anyway. She wanted to let go and relax in his embrace and enjoy simply being spoiled. "And I want nothing more than to return to your side," she said finally. 

Legolas looked at her with such fire, she felt unable to keep a blush from blooming on her cheek. But neither broke the gaze for long moments, in silent awe of having found each other again and that none of this was a cruel dream to wake up from. That, contrary to the torment of the last days, they were not destined to be apart for a lifetime and that now the road to mutual happiness seemed indeed cleared of all obstacles. In silence they sat for minutes, his fingers caressing hers in their entwined grip while her hand gently combed his hair. 

Life on Middle Earth went on as usual. Even in that instant flowers bloomed while trees were cut. Children laughed and fell on their faces while old couples argued. Beasts of incredible beauty were slain while even the crudest of beings tasted motherhood for the first time. Husbands and wives delved into lies and deceit, consciously hurting another for their own desires while men and women sacrificed their lives to save the life of a nameless other. Bonds were tied, vows were broken. Tales of false heroic deeds were spreading while real heroes lived and died in silence and with no audience. 

Many sentiments flew with incredible speed through Middle Earth, tying, breaking, bonding, shaking, stirring, soothing, waking, invoking, dampening, relieving and releasing, tormenting and obsessing, surprising and frustrating countless people. A web of ultimate neatness and incredible detail, spun and hanging in a dark universe, binding so many souls to one another, while ironically all believed to be single and alone. 

And perhaps as in many other places in that instant, in that old and cheap room in a forgotten town, after having crossed paths of desperation, excitement, sacrifice, anger, agony and joy, two spirits bonded with a bond that nothing -even death- could manage to break. No words were exchanged. No explanations made. No vows were spoken and no decisions reached. And yet, under the veil of the night, about to give away to a new day, both Legolas and Irulan knew with a knowledge beyond normal, mortal understanding that they had found each other again and that they would never let go of one another. 

"I wonder," he whispered then, his husky tone sending a chill through her, "if it is fitting to apologize now." His gaze wandered over her face, his fingers releasing her hand and brushing ever so gently over her lips. "Ahead of my actions and the pain."

Her brows furrowed with confusion. "Ahead of the p-?" 

He swiftly leaned in and kissed her then, knowing that it must indeed hurt her, since her lips were still wounded, but he could not hold back any longer if the Valar themselves appeared in the room and asked him to do so. Irulan flinched a little, both from surprise and the small pain she felt as his lips found hers, but she did not pull back or break the kiss. And Heaven knows he tried his best to be gentle. Though he seriously doubted that he succeeded in doing so as his tongue parted her lips and found its way in her warm and inviting mouth and the taste of her simply washed everything else away. In a distant way he was aware that his hand found her neck and his fingers glided around it to pull her closer yet as he delved deeper into the kiss, losing all control over himself after the fulfillment of such a seemingly endless and painful longing. 

Irulan whimpered a little, though she had tried hard not to, since she did not want him to stop for anything and Legolas instantly broke the kiss. He did not move away though, his breath washing over her. "Forgive me," he whispered, the logical part of him scolding him for such carelessness. That part had no rule over him today and he turned his back to it as he captured her lips again, trying to dampen the fervor in him, but failing anyway. Her arms glided around his neck as she embraced him and if he had had any sense left in him -which he did not- he would have lost it at that moment. He pressed her further down and her head sank into the soft folds of the pillow as the world was no more and there was only the kiss for Legolas. 

His body automatically reacted to another flinch yet, as he pulled slightly back, his arms refusing to part further. "It hurts?" he whispered, still unable to pull his actions under his control. 

"A little," lied Irulan then as her fingers glided through his hair, not breaking the embrace she had on him. 

"I am sorry," he whispered, and to his own horror, leaned in again, this time softer, but no less demanding in his ministrations. 

Not that she wanted him to stop. Irulan cared nothing for the pain. She barely felt it as it was drowned under a heavy blanket of far grander emotions that were surging through her with merciless fierceness. If she died this very instant, it would be a great gift from the Valar. She would die feeling a happiness that the rest of Middle Earth could only envy in its intensity. The events of the last few days shriveled and died then. As important they had seemed just a few moments ago, they were silly and needless details now. Yet another whimper escaped from her lips as his fingers glided over her bruised ribs in an attempt to settle on her waist. Irulan almost moaned with disappointment when he broke away again. 

He closed his eyes and pushed down the curse he was tempted to utter. "Enough!" pressed on his logical side then, stronger than before. "You will injure her further, foolish elf!" 

"Do not heed my injuries," Irulan said then and he opened his eyes to look down at her. "The healers can mend them, or no?" she said a little out of breath. 

"I suppose they can," he whispered, his hand avoiding her ribs and softly grasping her waist, though his mind commanded him to let go and pull away. 

"No worries, then," she said, embracing him stronger. It was all the encouragement Legolas needed as he dived into another kiss. And then another. And yet another, as the last remnants of his Grief vanished for good, never to set their shadows on his spirit again. 

***

"Enough you two!" yelled Gimli with mock frustration, "This is no honeymoon ride!"

Irulan laughed softly as Legolas broke the kiss and with a bemused smile, raised his head to look ahead. She leaned her head on his chest again and he pulled her slightly up and towards himself by her waist, embracing her with a gentle but strong grip. She looked in his direction then and Gimli mumbled, scratching his beard while the rest of the party snickered with wide grins. 

"Is there a matter, Master Dwarf?" the Prince said then with a lofty voice, though it proved to be an effort to speak as the warmth of her body lay against him sideways on the saddle and her hand, softly grasping the front of his tunic, wove the strongest spell on his spirit. 

"You are both mad, THAT is the matter!" he roared then. "We should get to the castle. And fast. Lady Irulan needs rest and healing!"

"I am fine, Master Gimli," she said, leaning her head on his chest further and inhaling his scent. "Legolas had tended to my wounds."

"A faster pace is painful on her injuries," said the Prince, smiling down on Irulan and kissing the top of her head. 

"Really now?" came a bemused reply from Haldir as his horse moved next to Arod and he smiled a sly smile to Irulan. "After his state yesterday, I would have expected Prince Legolas to dash back to the capital. But I suppose there are far more urgent matters at hand."

Legolas chuckled softly as the rest of the company watched in awe the shamelessness of elves in such matters. He leaned in to place another soft kiss on her lips, then the cheek that seemed to have improved drastically in a matter of hours alone, thanks to the elvish balm Legolas had put on it. She sighed and glided her fingers to his jawbone, following the line of it and resting her hand on his shoulder as his warm lips tenderly roamed her cheeks and the corner of her lips, every now and then slightly brushing over her mouth, the kisses both passionate and yet incredibly soft. She was not aware that she was sitting on a horse. Or that she had just survived the worst three days of her life. Or that she was injured not so lightly. Neither did she think of what the future would hold. What it meant to return in this state to the castle. Or to return at all. All that mattered was the moment and the moment was a blanket of embers, the warmth of it seeping into her very bones as Legolas held her and embraced her and kissed her and whispered words of hope, love and encouragement into her ear. 

"Perhaps we should ride ahead, then?" said Eomer suddenly. "The awaiting party must be very anxious of news."

Haldir blinked to that, trying to suppress the urge to hail the captain for his offer. He had been dying to return to the palace where Eowyn waited, to say the least. "Sounds reasonable to me," he said with a cool tone of voice. 

"It is only a few hours away now, even with this pace. We can remain," said Boromir to that, his gaze washing over the cuddled pair on Arod as he found the idea of leaving them out here in the wilderness alone a little disturbing. Little did it occur to him that he was thinking about the Prince here and that the elf possessed many times his capability of overcoming obstacles. 

Aragorn, who himself had reasons to return sooner (and very similar ones to Haldir) hastily broke in: "I agree with Eomer and Lord Haldir. These premises are safe and of course Prince Legolas is more than capable. We can ride ahead and make preparations for their arrival."

"What kind of preparations?" asked a stupefied Boromir then. Aragorn just gave him a nasty stare and he looked back in all innocence. 

"What would Prince Legolas think of this offer?" rumbled the dwarf then, the devious part of him already in understanding that, though elves did not mind pursuing their expressions concerning their love in public, the solitude would still offer more comfort for the couple.

"It is a good idea," Legolas said curtly. "There is no need to make the others wait for the good news."

"But Sire," began Boromir before he was cut off by Haldir "Perfect! Let us ride ahead then. Gentlemen!" he turned his blue gaze to a baffled First Captain, giving a nod with his head. 

"I personally think-" began the other man again, but this time it was Aragorn who cut in: "Boromir, kick that horse NOW before I kick it for you."

After a moment's stare in disbelief during which Eomer and Irulan had to bite their lips to keep from laughing out loud, Boromir finally relented and mumbling something under his breath that was inaudible even to the elves, he rode ahead, the other men joining him right away. 

Irulan and Legolas watched them disappear in the horizon. "You have good friends," she said absent-mindedly. 

"They are your friends, too," was his soft reply as he did not divert his gaze from her and his hand gently stroked her waist while his other held the reigns. 

"What happens now, Legolas?" she said a moment later, her fingers playing with the front of his shirt.

"Now," he sighed, his blue eyes still fixed on her, "we shall let go of everything past. A new day has dawned, Irulan." 

She looked up with a smile, her hand stilling on his chest as the beatings of his heart echoed on her palm. "Sounds like a very difficult task."

Legolas smiled and kissed her again gently on the lips. "Nay. It is surprisingly easy a thing to do. Close your eyes," he said. She gave him a bemused smile, then complied. "Let me see......" he said then, his eyes wandering over her features as he found it incredible for her to look so fabulous even in this state. "Where were we?" Irulan bit her lower lip to hide a grin. "Oh yes," he said then with a grin himself, "you were saying my name." She opened her eyes to meet his as a gentle breeze ruffled his hair. "Say it again," he whispered.

"Legolas," she said softly. 

The Prince smiled, pulling her further up to himself. "Please," he whispered, "say it again."

"Legolas," whispered Irulan back, and a strange feeling of relief came over her. Though she knew that what was said and done would always remain so, a part of her spirit suddenly reverted back to that day in the forest with such force, that she might indeed have reversed time itself. A smile tugged on her lips. "Have you forgotten who you are?" she added then with slight bemusement.

"Nay," he said, leaning in for another kiss, "I think I finally remembered." He glided his tongue over her lower lip, feeling the cuts on it that had healed for the most part from the day before. Irulan kissed him back, the burning sense of happiness returning to her. 

"Oddly I do not remember this part happening," she said then with a slight chuckle as she broke the kiss. 

"It is what should have happened," he replied with a smirk. 

"Prince Legolas!" she said with mock horror. "Would you indeed dare to kiss a strange maiden only the second time you met her?"

Legolas laughed at that, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Why not? It was my wish to do so."

"Liar," she said, smacking him gently on the shoulder. 

"It was," he said with a more serious tone then, the look he gave her making her shift uncomfortably against all odds. 

Irulan looked up at him baffled. "You wanted to KISS me?"

Legolas grinned and squinted, looking ahead. "That would be an understatement, Irulan."

Her eyes grew even wider. "I do not believe you," she whispered in awe. 

He looked back down at her then, his eyes penetrating her soul. "Any man in his right mind would have," he said slowly. When she blushed a deep pink and looked away, his smile grew even wider. "Good thing you did not blush like this. Or else, I certainly would have been incapable of keeping myself from doing so." Irulan huffed as her features betrayed irritation while Legolas laughed a melodious laugh once more. 

"I am not a girl to kiss people right after I meet them, you know!" she protested with mock anger. 

"I certainly hope not," he said then, feeling light and careless and happy for no reason at all. "Alas," he sighed then, "I am such a man, I'm afraid."

At that, Irulan exploded with laughter and then winced, her hand flying to her ribs as a pain shot through her while her laughter refused to die away. The elf chuckled softly, then steadied her, pulling her further up in a sitting position so that her stance would lacken. It proved to be a hard thing to do while she was still fighting the laughter, but when they finally succeeded, she threw her arms around his neck, placing her forehead to his cheek. "Never leave me again," Legolas whispered a moment later, stroking her back. 

"Legolas if I do, please have the decency to slap me awake," she said, leaning further in to the crook of his neck. 

"I would not slap you, Irulan," he said then, amused. "But......my methods would prove to be far more effective." He found her lips then, kissing her with gentle passion, aware that it was not too merciful on her cuts, but too eager not to miss a moment like this with her. 

***

When they arrived at the stables a couple of hours later, a rather large party was assembled, waiting for them. Upon seeing a distinctively vital looking Prince, they brought out the flowers and flower petals they had prepared and a glorious hail began, the sound igniting a spark of life in the palace and the fire that was born from that spark traveling through the corridors and halls of the building, replacing the cold, tomblike atmosphere in a matter of hours. 

Legolas glided down Arod with Irulan still in his arms and refused to let her down, even though she told him so. Eowyn came forward then and Irulan thanked the fact that he did not let her down, after all, for the blonde woman would have caused both of them to tumble and roll on the floor, no doubt. She embraced Irulan with unexpected strength, making her wince with the pain that shot through her ribs as Eowyn bounced up and down, Irulan still in her embrace. Legolas had to pry Irulan off her, which would have been impossible if Haldir had not stepped up and held the other girl in bay. The elves shared a strange glance, followed by Haldir's shrug. Arwen came in then, far more gentle, but no less enthusiastic in nature. Which was a strange thing, since she had always been cool and composed. And Legolas failed to move to the quarter of the healers as Chemarit and Gandalf too expressed their joy at her sight, no matter how battered. 

Only then did the Prince find the chance to cut his way through the throng of servants and soldiers, overjoyed by his far better looks and the even better news. He strode to the House of Healers and lay Irulan on that infamous bed before, sitting on it next to her. The old healer glided in, then, her eyes taking in the Prince and berating suppressed relief and joy, then gliding over Irulan and a frown settling on her features. Irulan gulped with discomfort. 

"So we meet again, Lady Irulan," she mused, "I must admit that this time the interval was far too long."

Irulan grasped the elf's hand with fervor. "Do not leave me," she hissed with alarm. 

"I will be right here," he said gently, but the woman intervened with her cool voice. 

"I am afraid the Prince will have to exit this room." At their look filled with lack of understanding, she continued with a lazy tone "Unless it is fit for him to see you nude, Lady Irulan."

Legolas grinned to that. "It is alright. I do not mind," he said, bemused. 

Irulan just gave him a nasty stare. "You better come back once they dress me, Legolas," she hissed with threat a moment later and he laughed and exited, softly shaking his head. 

Irulan's gaze locked with the old woman, then. "Elves!" she said with exasperation, rolling her eyes. 

"I know," the old woman then, with the same exasperation, making her laugh out in surprise. 

****

Irulan woke up to his touch, as his hand glided down her arm, to find her hand. She did not open her eyes immediately, cherishing the feeling. 

When she finally did, he was smiling at her, knowing that she had been awake for a while now. "Are you feeling well, my love?"

Irulan smiled back, nodding her head. His fingers glided up to her arm and to her shoulder. He moved closer, pulling her to himself by the waist as they lay looking at each other while dawn broke on a beautiful late summer day. He glided his fingers through her hair, detangling the dark locks gently. "I should braid it," she said, feeling relaxed at that touch. 

"Leave it," he whispered and drew a large strand to inhale the musky scent of it. "I love your hair unbraided. The color is like the soft color of earth after the rain."

"Perhaps I shall cut it short," she said then, bemused. 

Legolas gasped in shock. "Please don't," he whispered a moment later, still with evident alarm. 

Irulan's smile widened. "Why not? Would it not look good on me?"

"It would look fabulous on you. Everything does," he said, swallowing softly, trying to find a way to put it. "But......to cut such hair......I mean.....it is.......cruel," he finished, unable to come up with anything else. When she raised her eyebrows, he continued with a sigh. "Perhaps you can call it an elven weakness. We just......love long hair."

"Ah well.....then I shall leave it," she said. "For you."

She almost laughed out loud when he exhaled in relief. They remained like that for a short while. Finally she sighed and broke the silence: "I have put you in a difficult spot, have I not?" 

Legolas looked back in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Irulan shrugged with discomfort. "You announced the world about…..about the……."

"The wedding, yes," he said, smiling a gorgeous smile. 

"Yes," she said and swallowed in discomfort. "And I…..I……"

"You departed from Ithilien, yes," he said gently, his fingers gliding down her arm. 

"That's another way to put it, yes," she said, shifting with discomfort. 

A short silence followed. "I do not care about the rest of the world, Irulan. Cease your worry," he said with a low voice. 

"I am sorry," she whispered, unable to look at him. "Is it too late for amends?"

Legolas blinked in surprise. "It is never too late," he said, the frown still on his face as his gaze tried to read her meaning. "But what sort of amends do you mean, my love?"

She shrugged again. "I was thinking," she said, then unable to talk further, stopped. 

"Yes?" said Legolas when she did not continue, trying hard to suppress the hope in his voice. 

"Ah forget it!" she yelped then, scrambling out of the bed in haste. "I will go and take a bath," she said, not turning around and departing to the adjoining bathroom. She realized that lavender blossoms floated in the water today instead of rose petals and the distinctive scent of the flower hung in the room. 

Cursing at her own cowardice she stomped to the pool and shedding her nightshift, glided into the water. She turned around and yelped in surprise when she found herself nose to nose with Legolas. "W-what….when…." she stammered, gliding back in haste while he watched her with amusement. 

"I want to take a bath, too," he said then, observing her shock and unease with amazement and pleasure. 

"Oh….," she stammered, diving deeper to hide her nudity, very well aware how foolish that was, but unable to do otherwise. "N-now?"

Legolas nodded, his blue eyes not leaving hers. "Besides," he said then, taking a step towards her, "I was under the impression that our conversation has not reached a conclusion yet." Irulan hissed and turned around, wiping her face. Smiling wider at her discomfort he stepped behind her, pulling her tangled hair from her back, his other hand gliding down her spine. "Now," he whispered into her ear, let us continue. You were about to tell me what was on your mind."

"Well……I was thinking….." Irulan began, then moaned and massaged her face. 

"Yes my love?" Legolas whispered, pressing himself even further against her, his hands gliding through her wet hair.

"Nothing," she mumbled. 

"No please," he whispered, "tell me, Irulan." When she did not speak up again, he embraced her waist, pressing her against himself. "Allow me to help. Does this concern our relationship?" Irulan nodded. He released one of his hands and glided it through her hair again. "I see," he sighed, the touch of her alone a source of bewilderment. "Is it about the past events of-…"

"I was hoping that…….you would still want to……." she yelped then, despite herself. The words simply refused to come out of her mouth. No matter how hard she tried, she failed to utter them. 'Damn it! You coward! You stupid coward!' she thought and blushed furiously, then tried to pry herself off Legolas to leave. But his grip did not lessen. If anything, it grew stronger. 

"Stay," he whispered, his arms encircling her stronger, careful not to hurt her ribs and Irulan ceased her struggle, thinking that she was becoming more pathetic by the moment. 

"What will I be here?" she whispered then, not knowing how else to put it. 

"You can be anything you want," he said, his hand finding hers. "But," he added and a moment of silence followed. "I was hoping that you would be by my side. As my equal, Irulan. As my queen. As my……..my wife," he finished then, knowing that it was simply beyond her to go any further and that it was simply beyond him to wait and miss the chance. Another, and denser silence followed. Legolas pursed his lips and decided to wait it out. Elves were supposed to be patient. The Prince was supposed to be calm and cool. Composed. Determined. 

Not this one. "Will you?" blurted, unable to keep it in any further. Irulan opened her mouth, but he continued in haste, embracing her stronger. "Say you will." Then he remembered that this attitude was exactly what had driven her off his life in the first place. "Or if not……then say you will consider, Irulan," he whispered. "Say you need time. That you will ask others. That you might. Say there is a chance that-"

"No, Legolas."

He did not know if it was the world that froze or himself. Irulan turned in his arms, then, looking up at him and he was certain that the shock was very evident on his face, but had not the strength to correct that. 

"I will not consider. Nor will I ask others. I do not need time, either." Legolas swallowed, a sense of falling into a deep abyss pulling at his brain mercilessly. "For I know what I want and I am certain. I want to be your wife."

He blinked, the sensation of falling growing at that. Perhaps centuries passed then, as he felt himself lost in Irulan's gaze. "When?" he heard a whisper and when her eyebrows rose in surprise and amusement, he knew that he himself had uttered it. 

"Well……" she said, her lips curving up in the most fabulous smile Legolas had ever seen, "I don't know. I was thinking…."

"Now?" he said with evident hope and both blinked in surprise. 

"NOW?!" said Irulan in amazement. 

"Alright," he said in haste, feeling himself returning to present time and life. "Not now. Tonight perhaps?" Irulan gave him an agape look and he continued with urgency. "No, not tonight. But…..tomorrow?"

She laughed then and Legolas laughed along, not knowing what else to do with himself. "Whatever happened to all the representatives of all the kingoms in Middle Earth, Legolas?"

"They are running a little late," he said, entranced. 

"I thought it was a complicated thing. The marriage of a Prince, that is."

"It is," he struggled, his mind already gone, somewhere else while his body tried to keep his end of the argument. "But.....Alright, we can repeat the ceremony later again. But we should not wait and miss the perfect day, Irulan."

Irulan chuckled, throwing her arms around his neck. "That would be unforgivable, would it not?" she said.

"It would," he whispered, his hands gliding down her spine to settle on her waist. 

"The Valar would never forgive us."

"Nay. It would be a terrible mistake."

"We would be damned, Legolas. And doomed, too."

"Till the ends of time," he whispered, and if he was ever under a spell, this must have been it. 

"Let us get married then," Irulan said and Legolas exhaled a breath he did not know he was holding. 

"Let's," he said, his face a perfect expression of lost and found peace and happiness. 

He kissed her, his palms pressed against her cheeks, his fingertips on her eyebrows, his lips speaking of a tenderness and devotion that only an elf could be capable of. 

"I just realized something," Irulan said when she broke the kiss, a little out of breath and feeling almost in pain at her own fierce joy. 

"What is it?" he whispered, a major part of him not really listening as his excitement gave way to passion and he embraced her stronger, placing warm kisses on her shoulders and throat. 

"We never danced," was her bewildered reply. 

Legolas halted then. When he pulled back to look at her, the frown of confusion was on his face. "Pardon me?"

"At the Ball," said Irulan, swallowing softly, very well aware of that well known heat pulsing through her body again. "All that time, Legolas. We…..never danced," she finished, shrugging softly. 

Legolas blinked and smiled then as she smiled in return. He chuckled softly and Irulan broke into a grin, shaking her head, while her dark hair floated around her in the water. She heard him laugh softly and looked up, unable to keep her own grin from transforming into a laughter. "True," he said and laughed harder, as Irulan joined him, thinking that his laughter alone was like a song that spoke of beauty and hope. 

They remained in the pool for a long time, the echo of their joy bouncing off the walls and whispering in the halls where the servants heard it and smiled in reply to it. They laughed like children, then spoke and giggled and touched and kissed and chuckled, sighed, admitted, promised, whispered, yelped, embraced, caressed, complimented, confessed and laughed again. And though it may seem impossible to some, the palace and the world was a better place simply because of it. 


	33. To Survive a Wedding

Alright. This is definitely going on for too long! I spent the whole last week trying to finish the story and by this time I am fairly sure that there is some evil curse that prevents me from it. I wanted to go to the wedding directly, but then I thought that it would leave a gap in the story if I did not elaborate a little about Irulan's and Legolas' state and their psyche. In any case, it refused to get shorter. So I will post it anyway. Which means we are STILL not at the last chapter. So go ahead and dish me if you want. I have been doing that to myself for seven days now, it won't bother me too much at this point, believe me. My plans are to make the next one the final one. It is said that God laughs at those who make plans. Well we shall see, I suppose. 

As to the following: Some issues needed to be addressed as you will read and this is the best way I could come up with to do it. And yes….consider it a dare for those who think they can do better!

The wedding did not happen the next day, after all, but was only postponed for a week. Irulan managed to convince a Legolas who was beyond himself with excitement that neither his staff, nor herself were in the state to undergo something like that so soon. Legolas cared nothing for the staff, for he knew that they would prove to be just fine even if he pushed their limits, but bit his tongue in the face of her fatigue and slow healing. 

The next couple of days he barely took over his usual duties and instead, spent almost all his time with Irulan. They spent hours in the bed, talking and cuddling and making love. She loved the warm private pool, amazed by its system alone and another chunk of time was dedicated to be there. They stayed until Legolas laughed and lifted her hands, observing her pruned skin that was again something foreign and interesting to his elven nature, and denoted it to be a sign to leave. Then they got dressed and strolled through the castle, which was big enough to stroll for weeks and never visit the same places twice. Often they met with Aragorn, Boromir and Eomer, who were taking care of a large bulk of Ithilien duties and actually doing so very willingly - Legolas was better than he had been all his life and having observed his Grief, they had grown wary of his state. They decided that they would work thrice as hard in his stead rather than to see him ever again like that. 

All the current guests remained, having heard of the upcoming wedding. Invitations that had been prepared before the ending of the Ball were corrected and re-send to all other royal circles. Thankfully most of the preparations had been pondered on before as well, so it was possible for the staff to conclude them in a slower pace and without molesting the Prince too much. For everyone in the palace agreed with the captains and the three advisors: They would rather have their Prince have a break from his unrelenting duties and enjoy his own cure, than to face the consequences.

With their friends remaining, Irulan and Legolas attended many breakfasts and dinners and archery competitions and games, enjoying the warm circle around them. None spoke about her leaving. None spoke about his Grief. And if proved to be to their liking, since neither the woman, nor the elf wanted to be reminded of that slice of their lives. It was a glorious time, gentle and lazy like the summer days it was occupying. Irulan sometimes thought that she had actually died in the hands of Sidar and that this was only a dream - too good to be true. 

"Will it always be so between us?" she said one day as they were having breakfast and Legolas was watching her with narrowed eyes, making sure that she was indeed eating everything on her plate. She had grown quite thin and weak and he was determined to change that. 

"How do you mean?" he said, leaning back in his chair as the breeze in the garden ruffled his silver hair. 

Irulan shrugged deftly. "I always thought you would have no time for me. You know....." she gave him a sidelong glance, "as the King and all. That I would be alone and miserable."

The elf smiled then and she was amazed at his beauty. Although Irulan saw him for hours and hours every day, his beauty still startled her. It simply refused to be overlooked. "What is the point of a union if we shall be apart, Irulan?" he said gently. 

She nodded, playing with the food in her plate under his watchful gaze, but the elf said nothing to her lack of appetite. "Perhaps you'll grow tired of me," she said then, managing to look calm and blank while a large part of her was grinning with sly delight, "Or bored."

Legolas did not answer for a long moment, merely looking at her. Finally he said "It must be my foolish actions in that past that give you such forebodings for the future. Though well deserved, they hold no value, Irulan. I would never grow tired of you."

"How can you know that?" she said, intrigued by his certainty in the matter. 

He sighed and gazed into the garden for a moment. Then he locked eyes with her again and it was one of those rare moments Irulan felt the gap and the difference between them - no matter how oblivious it became at times, Legolas was still an elf. No man's mind was designed to comprehend a creature like that. 

"You think of yourself as an affair, Irulan," he said softly. "You think you are a woman to me. A source of excitement and satisfaction. Therein lies your mistake." She swallowed softly, her fork frozen in her hand as she dared not look away. He leaned towards her then, his fingers traveling over her cheek and into her hair, gliding through it as he usually did as his eyes darted over her face, inspecting her features. "Such words could never suffice to describe your place in my life." He sighed again and found her hand, entwining his fingers with hers in a slow dance, watching their grip for a moment. "No words can. And yet we try. We always try to say things that are not meant to be said." He looked up at her again, his eyes definitely inhuman. "Though it does no justice to my feelings, perhaps it would be less wrong to say that you are a part of me. A vital part. Could I grow bored of my heart? Would I ever tire of my hands? Will I ever imagine a future in which I will be rid of my eyes?" He smiled again an shook his head gently, not speaking any further. 

Feeling exposed under such a penetrating gaze, Irulan swallowed softly and stammered "Perhaps.....your heart would......feel for another?"

The moment she uttered that she wished she had not. A look of shock and disbelief settled on the elf's features and Irulan felt ashamed that she was failing so hard in understanding him. "I am sorry," she added with haste. "It is just......I......I am trying to......to understand you." She pursed her lips and dared another glance to see if he was angry. To her dismay, he looked not angry but rather disappointed. 

Legolas inspected her for another moment, then nodded. "Do not try to understand me, Irulan," he said, his fingers caressing hers. "For all you can do is to match me with what is already in your mind. It would be more to my liking if you would open a new and flawless chamber in your mind for me, instead." She smiled in relief and cast her eyes on their entwined hands. 

The intensity between them needed to be lifted. So she sighed and added "What if MY heart falls for another?" She felt his hand freezing in her grip and looked up to see clear alarm in his elven features. For a tiny moment she felt cruel. But then......it was only for a tiny moment. She shrugged deftly as his gaze gained a scolding and angry edge. "What?" she said in all innocence, "It could happen you know."

When he exhaled in frustration and looked away into the distance she dared a small smile, keeping the rest of her features blank. "I suppose you would be very civilized and mature and allow me to-"

"I am nowhere that civilized, my love," he cut in dryly. 

"Oh," she said, leaving her fork aside and leaning back to look at him. "let me guess......you would 'eliminate' me?"

Legolas leaned towards her, their faces merely inches apart. "You? Nay, never," he whispered with a dangerous tone. "Him? Most certainly."

She shook her head with disbelief. "You would actually KILL someone?"

He smiled and did not answer right away, his fingers gliding to her fork that he used to pick up the remainder of her food. "For you, yes." He guided the fork to her mouth and halted for a moment as Irulan rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, unwillingly continuing her breakfast. 

"That is very wrong, Legolas," she mumbled, still chewing as the elf observed her. 

"I am not perfect," he said with indifference. 

Irulan swallowed and took a deep breath. "You are a King," she said then. 

Legolas, having prepared another fork for her, met her gaze. "And a man."

She tried to turn away from the advancing food, but failing to do so, moaned and opened her mouth again. "Stop it. I can eat no more!" she protested, leaning back. 

The Prince gave her a sheepish look. "Let us not argue about it again, Irulan. Think of it as medication."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and coughed "I am no child, Legolas! And I can only eat so much."

He sighed and gave her a long, blank look. Irulan stared back in defiance. "Stop doing that!" she hissed finally. 

"Doing what, my love?"

"Looking at me like that. I am well, I tell you." After another staring duel, she gave in and yelped "Legolas!"

He put the fork away then and folded her hand in between his. "Irulan," he said, locking eyes with her, "does my pleasure mean anything to you?"

She blinked in surprise and said "Yes, of course."

He gave her another long look before he continued: "It gives me immense pleasure to tend to you so. All my life I have never tended to anyone in that fashion. Is it too much to ask for?" She just stared back, unable to come up with a reply to that. "Is it too great a sacrifice for you to let me care for you? If not for your own wellness, would it be too much to do so for me?" Irulan shook her head. Then added with haste "But Legolas...-"

Legolas held up his hand and stilled her. "I will ask no more if it's so much to your dislike."

Irulan sighed with frustration. Then she gave him a frosty look as he stared back with a blank expression. She sighed once more. "Fine!" she huffed finally. Legolas raised his eyebrows, waiting. "Fine, alright!" she moaned again. "Silly elf. 'Tend' to me, then!" she spat, stressing the word. 

He smiled and gave her the fork which she observed for another moment with a dirty look, then snatched it from him and began the torturous task of finishing her plate, which was simply too full to be finished. Legolas pulled his chair closer and remained watching her and running his fingers through her hair, gently stroking her back. "I think you are just tense about the wedding, my love."

"THAT I am!" she moaned, gulping down another mouthful, then breaking into a coughing fit as it refused to go down. What they did not know was that she was about to get far tenser. 

Legolas gently patted her back, but before he could proceed with an answer, Lord Haldir's voice rang nearby: "This can only indicate one thing," he said and both Irulan and the Prince turned around to observe him standing alongside Eowyn, glancing down at them. 

"Irulan refuses to eat again!" stated Eowyn with a wide grin. 

Haldir snickered to that and bowing slightly to the Prince, advanced to sit on one of the many chairs at the table, gently pulling the woman with him. "How wise you are, my dearest," he said, in obvious amazement of Eowyn, who only smiled back at him playfully. 

"Aren't you lucky, Haldir!" she mused then. 

"Blessed for certain!"

Irulan moaned and Legolas caught her gaze. They rolled her eyes in unison. 

"Dear Prince Legolas, you are too gentle on her, I am telling you! Why, if it had been Dernhelm....-"

"Eowyn!" spit Irulan in a dangerous voice and the blonde woman grinned even wider. 

"Alright, alright! But I am right in this. Stop acting like a damn lady, Irulan!"

"Oh be quiet!" the other one mumbled, trying to chew her food further as her jaws literally ached with the effort. 

"You are getting so feisty. Relax, woman!"

"I am not feisty! Legolas! Tell her that I am not feisty!"

The Prince, caught a little off-guard at that, managed to exchange a bewildered glance with the Lothlorien elf before he said "Irulan is perfect the way she is."

"Which means?" said Eowyn with a sly grin as Haldir chuckled, shaking his head. 

"That she is feisty in the right amount and the right manner, of course," Legolas said and barely kept himself from exhaling in relief at Irulan's satisfaction. 

"So be it," Eowyn said and delved into a hearty breakfast. 

"What news of....you," Irulan said, stifling the word 'home' at the last moment. 

"I am having a grand time!" mumbled Eowyn with a full mouth. 

"You have not returned yet?" the other woman said, irritated that Eowyn was not getting the message. 

"Oh.....no."

"Eowyn will not return there," Haldir said then, waving his arm with disinterest. "She is not cut to be a servant at some cruel woman's whim. After your wedding I will take her to Lothlorien."

Irulan exchanged an amazed glance with Legolas, who was looking at Haldir with bemusement. 

"How strange, Lord Haldir," the Prince said then, "that you have grown so fond of a....human....woman." He rolled the word on his tongue with purpose as the other elf grew visibly disturbed by that. 

"Why should it be strange?" Haldir finally said and looked up, successfully having re-installed his icy gaze. 

Legolas shrugged in all grace. "It was not my expectation of you."

"Well......you have not come to known me too well," was the cautious reply. "I always admired beauty. In any shape or form."

"Even in the form of a lady from…..Ithilien?"

"Of course. I always……." he glanced at Eowyn who was chewing and looking at him with deep curiosity, then at Irulan who was observing him with equal interest, "……..I always……" he swallowed hard and continued: "……admired Ithilien!"

Legolas blinked and his eyebrows rose gracefully. "Pardon me? I must have misheard you, Lord Haldir."

Irulan and Eowyn looked from one elf to the other as seemingly an eternity passed during their cool and silent exchange. Finally Haldir swallowed softly and his voice was incredibly low, with a slight edge of threat when he spoke: "I said," he seethed, "I always…..admired…..Ithilien." For a moment Irulan thought he would scream in frustration. But nothing happened as she held her breath, waiting while Eowyn chewed on with joy. 

The Prince's eyebrows rose softly and his smile was purity itself. He nodded with sly satisfaction. "I am very glad and honored to hear that."

"As am I," said Eowyn with a killer smile, which Haldir returned, relaxing visibly. 

Irulan gave Legolas a soft kick underneath the table as he looked back at her with all innocence. She rolled her eyes at his childish rivalry and he laughed softly, embracing her and kissing her hard on the cheeks. 

And so more days passed. Legolas made her feel so at home that sometimes Irulan truly felt as if she lived there all her life. The little dark basement room was pushed further and further back in her memory. Though it refused to disappear completely, of course. As a matter of fact, she often woke up, startled, dreaming of her sisters and Ingmar, sometimes about her father and at times of her forest meetings with Legolas. It was very disturbing, not only in essence, but also because her life was so drastically different from that now, that it served to confuse her quite a bit. She emerged from dreams crying a few times, a very concerned Legolas trying to calm her down and to convince her that it was only a nightmare and behind her now for all times. 

Her daily habits were very hard to change, too. Often enough Irulan forgot that she was about to be queen now and unconsciously made the bed, or attempted to take her own plate back to the kitchen. The servants watched her with horror while she strode towards the kitchen with the plate in her hand, her thoughts in disarray and her mind somewhere else, then hastily run up to her, snatching it from a very shocked Irulan, who blushed and stammered furiously. 

The worse part, though, was the fact that with each day closer to the wedding, Irulan felt herself straining and tensing further and further, about to snap. No matter how much she tried to, she could not help becoming impatient and anxious and downright nervous. 

It was not easy, mind you. In all honesty, anybody with a little brain would be more than frustrated about stepping in front of hundreds of royals. Especially to marry the Prince of Ithilien. Especially as a servant. Especially as one who had disappeared the day her wedding was announced. Especially a not so gorgeous one. And so on and so forth Irulan struggled, doing her best to keep sane and still unable to become increasingly temperamental and moody. 

When the wedding day finally came, she deserted the palace entirely, hiding in one of the many gardens and fuming at her own heart that refused to calm down. "How very unlike the Irulan that I was!" she hissed to herself, ripping the grass beneath her mercilessly. "I survived my terrible family. I survived years in a basement! I survived being alone and looked down at and beaten up! Hell, I was even arrogant and self-confident afterwards! And look at me now! Pathetic is what I am! Behold the new QUEEN!" she yelped into the silence. 

She massaged her face then, trying to calm down. After many gulps of air (which served nothing, by the way) she was only even more furious, if such a thing was possible. Because just a few hours ago she had found out about something that was as irritating and unnerving as the wedding itself. She thought about it. Then about the wedding. Then about it. Then the wedding. No….they were definitely equal in anger-igniting. "I can not BELIEVE it!" she yelped to herself and furiously continued ripping. 

Then, for the fourteenth time, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. "No worries," she mumbled. "I am not in a palace garden. No......" she frowned and tried to revert herselt to some other place. "I am in the forest. By the stream." Her face lighted up. "Yes, exactly," she said with a little more enthusiasm, not opening her eyes. A soft breeze came up and she tried to imagine herself sitting under the tree by the stream. Only the thought brought with it the thought of Legolas. And that carried the idea of the wedding with it. A wedding that was barely hours away from her. Irulan hastily folded her hands on her face. "Damn! I am by the stream. By the stream!"

"Have you lost your way?"

Irulan jumped despite herself and opened her eyes to see Legolas standing with a leisure stance before her. "When their eyes locked, he added "YOU!" with mock surprise. She watched with irritation as he walked up to her and sat beside her gracefully, bringing her hand up for a kiss. "You should not walk around here alone, Lady Irulan. It is not safe."

"How come you always find me in this huge palace, Legolas?" she said dryly. 

"I would not tell," he said slyly and winked. 

Irulan shook her head and sighed with frustration. "The whole palace is in an uproar," he said, sitting closer and gliding his fingers over her cheekbone. "Everyone is looking for you."

"I know," she whined and returned to ripping grass. 

"It is natural to be nervous," he said, pulling her hand up for another kiss, "or afraid."

Irulan pursed her lips and did not answer for a moment. When she spoke, her voice had taken an unexpected frostiness: 

"Is it alright to be angry too, Legolas?"

He blinked with surprise and did not answer right away. "Angry?"

Irulan nodded and under his watching gaze, slowly retracted her hand from his. Another soft breeze came up, slightly combing the branches of the willow tree that were brushing the floor like a curtain. The smell of the flowers in the garden swirled up to her, intoxicating as any fragrance could be. She did not look away for a long moment as Legolas felt incapable of anything else but staring back, trying to read her mind. Finally she did divert her gaze and he did not know if that was good or bad. "Irulan, my love," he whispered, certain that something very nasty was coming, "speak to me. What is disturbing you?"

Another long moment passed and Legolas was seriously considering begging her when she spoke, her voice having grown even colder: "Speak to you, Legolas?!" she hissed, her brown eyes glued to his blue ones. "Alright. Let's speak." Legolas swallowed again, unable to look away. "Let us speak about......" with that, she diverted her eyes up, placing her hands on the grass and leaning on them, slightly tilting back in a leisure way, "about......oh yes I know!" She turned towards him, sparkles in her eyes, "Let us talk about how YOU spent your days after my leaving, Legolas." 

The elf blanched visibly before her eyes and slowly inhaled again, still not looking away. His fear gave way to dread, then, as he sensed what was coming next. And what was coming was only as desirable as an army of Uruk-hai. 

Irulan, still looking at him with evident threat in her gaze, crossed her arms on her chest, shifting for a more leisure posture. "Talk, Legolas," she said in a lofty manner that sounded even scarier. "I am listening."

No, that tone of voice was not good. Not good at all. "What does that mean, my love?" he managed finally, the hair on his nape rising with alarm. 

"It means, Legolas," she said, her tone growing even colder still, "that you have some explaining to do." He looked at her with confusion and she added dryly: "about this Grief issue." He blinked and could not prevent his eyes widening. Irulan watched him calmly. Very calmly. Then said "Is that your innocent look, Legolas? Because you seriously need to work on it."

"Irulan," he began then, cautiously, but she was faster: 

"And don't you dare deny it, either!"

He remained silent then, not knowing how to continue and sensing that things were not going as they should be. "Who told you?" was the only thing he could come up with. 

"That is not the important part," said Irulan, the cold voice gaining an angry twist to it. "Important is that you KNEW you would......you would.......suffer," she said, not able to say the word 'die' at this point, "and you let me go anyway!" 

"Well I.....," he began tentatively, only to be cut off again:

"If not for the imminent threat on me, you would have......you would have ended......" she spat, her fury slowly building. 

"Irulan please......."

"No! How dare you do such a thing!" she hissed and the elf was taken aback by the threat she was presenting at that moment. He combed his hand through his hair as another breeze came up, ruffling it like a silver-blond little ocean. His gaze wandered around the garden that had become her favorite in a matter of days, for its dense and lush atmosphere. The trees, flowers and bushes here were planted in great disarray and very close together, giving it a wilder and more natural atmosphere. 

He looked back at her, aware that he was losing the upper hand. And fast, too. Irulan had a nasty temper. But she was not a normally furious person. When she turned furious, it was time to be cautious. "My fate holds no value," he tried again, but Irulan was in no mood of listening:

"Certainly Legolas! And THAT is exactly the point you will do explaining about."

Legolas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Who told you?" he said again with a low growl. Irulan gave him a sheepish look. "Irulan, my love," he began then again, unable to let her be angry with him. 

"Don't 'my love' me, Legolas!" she hissed and he swallowed softly, drawing back. "I did not believe you to be so foolish, so I took the time to go around and ask. And guess what?!" She stared at him with a poisonous glance while he simply stared back with slight alarm. "It IS true!" she yelped and Legolas flinched a little. "For THREE DAYS, Legolas!" Irulan crossed her arms on her chest again, fuming with fury. 

"Alright," he said gently and lay his hand on her forearm but when she gave his hand a dangerous look, he withdrew it, silently swearing to himself that he would find this chatty weasel and give him or her a very good lesson. "Alright," he began again, "I have been......shaken."

"SHAKEN?!"

"I have not been well, yes," he added hastily. 

"Is that how you explain 'Grief' in elvish, Legolas?" she spat between clenched teeth. 

He took a deep breath, and tried to find something -anything- to say to it. He had known of course that Irulan would be more than a little angry at the discovery of something like this, but in his foolish optimism, had hoped that it would not come out. At least not so soon. "I chose you," he said then, barely keeping himself from touching her again, "I knew that it would cost me. But....I chose you, Irulan."

Her eyes grew even darker at that. "And for that, Legolas," she said with an overly calm and low voice, "you shall pay. Dearly."

Incapable of breathing, he just looked down at her with evident alarm. Irulan jumped up to her feet then and began to walk away with large strides, the thought of Legolas dying and fading away in some chamber because of her, igniting unbelievably intense feelings in her. As was the idea of the upcoming wedding.

"Where are you going?" she heard him say in disbelief.

"Away from you, that's where!" she spat back. 

A moment later Legolas was beside her, his anxiety growing with each step. "Irulan, do not walk away from me. I apologize. It was........."

"Foolish!" she yelped, not knowing why the hell she was so anxious. 

"Yes, foolish," he added with haste.

"And selfish, Legolas! Very selfish!"

"Yes my love,"

"What would have happened to Ithilien?!" she screamed then, stopping aprubtly and turning to him, her hands rolled into fists. 

"I......was in no state to consider the consequences, I assure you Irulan," he said, her dislike towards him at the moment hurting him more than he would imagine it to. If Legolas would be an ordinary man, he would have argued back. Any other man probably would have reminded Irulan that it was his longing for HER that had been the reason for that in the first place. But not Legolas. That would have been cruel. And being cruel to her was foreign to his mind. 

Thankfully Irulan was human and very capable of being cruel to herself. She remained silent for a moment and the elf observed in alarm. "Because I deserted you," she whispered then, swallowing hard. 

"No," he said, approaching her further, "you were right in your choice. I told you that before."

"So right that it almost killed you, Legolas," she said, locking eyes with him again and the elf took a step towards her, afraid of her worry and sadness more than her fury. "No!" she yelled then and he stopped in mid-track. "Don't make this something less than it is. A terrible, terrible mistake is what it is," she added with a lower voice, wanting to tear the world apart in her excitement and worry about the upcoming wedding.  

"Perhaps," he said gently, not daring to advance any further. "But it is in the past now. We decided to forget that part of our lives, have we not?" His eyes found hers again and he swallowed softly to suppress the need to walk up to her and embrace her fiercely. "Let it go, Irulan."

For a moment he thought she would. But of course it was never meant to be so easy. "I can not," she hissed, looking away again. "Leave me be! I need to think!" With that she turned around again and took another step. What she was not aware of, though, was the nearby thorny bush that had caught the hem of her gown. With her next attempt for a step she was pulled back with a mighty force. If Legolas had not stepped up to her, catching her, she would have lost her footing for sure. 

"Hold steady, Irulan," he said then, but she was too furious at him to let him help.

"I can manage!" she yelped and tried to walk away again, but although it tore her hem, the action only served for further entanglement. "These horrible, disgusting, unbearable GOWNS!" she shouted then, her anger beating like a hammer on her. 

"Wait, don't do that!" he tried to intervene but already she had walked back, trying to tear her skirt off. That, unfortunately, only served her to scratch her arms quite deeply. Irulan yelped in surprise and pain and flinched back, running her back into Legolas, who embraced her waist and held her tight. 

"What are you doing? Stop!" 

"Let me go!"

"Irulan, cool your fury. You are hurting yourself."

"I don't CARE!" She struggled and kicked some more as his grip never relented and he just remained unmoving, watching in awe her expression of anger. "Legolas! Let go!"

"Still yourself and I will," was his cool reply. 

She squirmed and thrashed some more. To no end, of course. Then she screamed and kicked some more. Still to no end. The elf stood with his embrace on her waist as still and calm as a statue, curious how long she would keep up. Finally many moments later Irulan began to cool down, simply because her energy was draining and she was certain that nothing would release her from Legolas' grip. She remained heaving in his arms, as he did not move for several more moments, to make certain that she would not dash away into the bushes again. 

"Alright," she mumbled finally, her fury slowly cooling down, but her anger at his grip not lessening. "Alright. Let go."

"Do not move, Irulan," he said then with a blank voice and released her. She remained standing, in an attempt to catch her breath as Legolas stepped around her and gracefully began to untangle the hem of her skirts from the bush. The cool breeze of the forest found them again and Irulan shivered slightly as it hit the sweat on her back. Having finished his task, the elf stood up and grasped her arms, inspecting her cuts. The thorns were rather large and Irulan had managed to give herself some impressive marks. Feeling foolish more than anything, she tried to snatch them away but was instantly surprised by his faster grip on them. She looked up and met the frosty blue look of the elf. 

He did not speak for another moment. Then said "Come, let us return to the palace. I shall put balm on it before it can swell and itch."

"No need," she said, looking away and trying to free herself once more. His grip on her remained exactly the same and Irulan looked back, annoyed. Neither his stance nor his gaze had changed and the slightest discomfort crept into her at the sight of it. 

"It was not a question, Irulan," he growled then. "Nor was it an offer. I suggest you come willingly."

Irulan blinked in surprise and remained still for a moment. "O-or else?" she stammered finally, annoyed at stammering so but unable not to. 

"Or else," he hissed and stepped even closer, looming over her as she gulped, the discomfort in her growing further, "*I* will take you."

"Legolas!" she hissed in return, a little irritated at him being right again, "I am no child. Let go."

The elf took a deep breath. "Forgive me, I can not. Your cuts need tending."

"They are of no importance."

"They are to me."

She yelped and tried to free herself again as Legolas just watched her attempts with utter calmness. "Are you done yet?" he said when she stilled again and his voice berated the rise of anger and impatience. 

Irulan huffed and stopped. He looked away for a few moments, pursing her lips. Then said "I am," with a low voice. 

His eyebrows rose to that. He nodded softly, his eyes not leaving hers. "Let us go then," he said, releasing her arm. 

"Fine. Lead," she said in a steely manner. Legolas hesitated for another moment, then turned around and began to walk. Childish or not, foolish or not, to no end or not, Irulan turned around and dashed in the opposite direction. She was so angry at the whole incident, she did not care if such an attempt had even the slightest hope of success or not. She was not really thinking at the moment, to be honest. 

If she were, she would have known that she stood no chance against Legolas. Only a few moments had passed when Irulan felt herself being hauled up and turned around, pinned to the forest floor. That did not really surprise her. What surprised her was that she was not hurt the least in the process. And that was probably something only an elf was capable of. Irulan screamed in fury some more as she was pinned down very effectively and only stopped when she found herself nose to nose with a fuming Legolas. 

"No child, Irulan?" he hissed, pursing his lips in anger as she still tried to push him away, though her screaming had stopped.

"You.......typical........MAN!" she yelled. "Selfish! Cruel! And......ANNOYING!"

"Irulan," he sighed with impatience, amazed by her fiery temper, "I apologize for not telling you. And yes, I had no intention of telling you in the future, either." 

"Now that is another story, is it not?" she said then, her tone quickly growing edgy again. "You meant to hide it from me. From ME, Legolas!"

"Yes, I did," he hissed back. "Please......forgive me," he finished, "I....should have told you. But it was not the right time."

She pursed her lips and gave him another look. "Then say that you will not repeat such a foolish decision if it comes up again."

Legolas blinked and looked down at her with disbelief. "I refuse to lie to you, Irulan," he said then. "I will always choose you."

"You stubborn goat!" she yelled then, struggling again. "Let me go!"

Legolas sighed and leaned in further as Irulan gulped and shut up again. "Nay. I like you where you are now." She looked away then, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden. The elf regarded her profile with a smile, his gaze wandering over her flushed face, her hair lying around in a dark tangle, strands of it sticking on her forehead and her nape. He leaned in slowly and kissed her cheek, feeling the warmth of it. Irulan swallowed hard and decided to remain silent, hoping that this would serve to cease his actions. Unfortunately it did nothing of that sort as his lips traveled over her cheeks, leaving a hot trail, then down her neck. 

"Legolas stop!" she yelped finally. 

"Not until you say you forgive me," he whispered, not ceasing his ministrations. 

"NO!"

"Very well," he said, continuing then and delving into the hollow of her throat. 

Irulan pursed her lips and tried to free her hands again, to no avail. "I can not believe you!" she hissed then, trying very hard not to give in and to keep her temper. "You can not kiss yourself out of this, Legolas!"

"Is that a dare?" he whispered into her ear, gently licking the lobe of it and she closed her eyes, gulping audibly. 

"A-alright. Alright!" she stammered then, a part of her irritated that Legolas knew how to undo her so easily. "I forgive you."

"Really?" 

"I do, damn it!"

Instead of pulling away, though, he kissed her lips, then and Irulan felt her heart exploding with the excitement. "And you will come with me to the castle, will you not, my love?" he said once he broke off. 

"Legolas," she said with a warning tone.

"Nay, I don't like that answer," he said and leaned back down, kissing her again, deeper this time. 

Irulan felt herself at the verge of letting go completely. When he pulled back again, her temper was completely gone. She had even forgotten that it existed once. "I forgot what we were talking about," she said then, closing her eyes as the world was spinning and spinning. 

He chuckled softly. "I was saying," he whispered, releasing her hands and gently cupping her cheek. "that you look fabulous when you are angry," he said and placed another soft kiss on her lips. He withdrew with a sigh of resent. "And that we need to return for your cuts. Not to mention......." 

He looked at her another moment with regret, then sat up, softly pulling up Irulan as well. She sat up, stupefied and confused, heaving with excitement. He softly grasped both her arms again, inspecting them. Then sighed and placed a warm kiss in each palm. 

"I am still angry at you!" she said, annoyed at her state. "And I will not take this treatment, just so that you know!" Legolas remained looking at her calmly, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "You can not have your way in everything! Especially not like this!" she said in frustration. "I am no child!"

"Nay, you are not," he said then, and brushed her hair away to kiss her neck, his lips lingering on her skin a little longer than usual. 

"A-and I am right!" 

"Always," whispered Legolas, his eyes boring into hers. 

Irulan gave him a sheepish look. Then moaned in desperation and held up her arms. "Good thing my gown has long sleeves."

He caught her arm then and placed gentle kisses on it. "I think from now on I should carry a flask of balm with me at all times."

Irulan only rolled her eyes, her frustration growing with the growing darkness. They remained sitting like that for a few more minutes as Legolas patiently combed through her hair, knowing that it would soothe her spirit. He seemed in no hurry at all, though Irulan knew that he must be excited out of his wits at the moment. She sighed and looked up to the darkening sky, then back at him. 

"Shall we go then?" he whispered. 

"Alright," she said, feeling the fear returning, but trying hard to suppress it. "Though we will talk about this whole......Grief.......issue later again. I promise you that! And it won't be so nice, either!"

Legolas jumped to his feet, stars in his eyes and gently grasped her elbows, pulling her up. "As you wish, Irulan. Will you have mercy on me?"

"No."

Legolas sighed with mock frustration. "I will have to kiss your anger away then, I suppose."

"Legolas! Don't you dare to-..."

"You should not have said that, Irulan," he said slyly, pulling her along as the garden darkened further, "you know I can never resist a dare."

***

Irulan fumbled with the straps and knots and belts of her gown and then finally screamed out loud, stomping her feet. "DAMN IT! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS THING??!!"

A moment later Legolas was in the room, his eyes scanning the chamber with alarm and attention, his stance ready to switch to battle mood. She looked at him, heaving with anger and frustration and after the inspection his gaze found hers as he remained unmoving for a few moments. 

"Irulan!" he said, his eyes making a last round in the room to be completely certain, "What has happened?!"

"This damn thing is a cruel mystery. THAT's what has happened!" she hissed with rage. 

He exhaled, giving her an irritated look. "I thought you were in pain," he growled and began to walk towards her. 

"I AM, damn it!" she yelped, stomping again and turning back to the mirror. 

After another string of silent battle with the gown she bit her tongue short of cursing the whole damn incident and remained looking into the mirror to still her fury. It was then that she locked eyes with the reflection of the elf who was watching her with pure awe. In her current state, Irulan had absolutely no intention of being nice. "What?!" she hissed, her brown orbs looking back at his without blinking. 

Legolas did not answer for a long time, then merely began to walk towards her as Irulan kept her eyes on his silent stride. "You," he whispered, his eyes gliding over her figure, from top to bottom and then from bottom to top, "you look........" 

"Terrible, I know!" she screamed. "And silly! Not to mention-.."

"You look like," he whispered, appearing behind her, his eyes finding hers in the mirror, "the Valar have created you for a single purpose, Irulan." She opened her mouth, her features berating a very nasty speech coming up, and Legolas continued: "To put the rest of us all in envy."

Irulan rolled her eyes and stomped some more. "Enough, Legolas! I am losing my mind here!"

"As am I," he whispered, his gaze still locked to hers as his hands found her shoulders. 

Irulan bit her lip from cursing out loud in desperation. 

"I'm afraid at such a sight I will forget all my vows and make a fool out of myself," he whispered, placing a long, warm kiss on her neck, then looking up again. 

"Well that will be the two of us," moaned Irulan, trying to pry herself off so that she could turn around and teach Legolas a lesson about how to behave merely a few hours away from a royal wedding. He did not let go, though, effectively swatting off her attempts and her blows as she grew even more furious by the moment. "And have I not told you that I HATE gowns!" she exclaimed finally, having failed in hitting Legolas or in freeing herself. 

"And have I not told you that you look stunning in them?" he said softly, breaking into an amused smile at her open expression of anger, gently swatting off yet another punch. 

"Legolas!" she yelled. Then flinching at her own voice echoing in the chamber, clasped her hands on her mouth as the elf chuckled with amusement. "Legolas!" she hissed then, "make yourself useful!"

"As my lady commands!" he said then with mock seriousness and his fingers began to glide over her gown as Irulan watched with awe and surprise how he effectively and fluidly began to tie and knot and tighten and smoothen the various gadgets of her bridal gown. 

I am afraid I will not survive this!" she whined. 

"Of course you will. You are too tense," he said gently, his fingers not ceasing their work. "It is only a ceremony."

"It is only a ceremony!" she mimicked him and his eyebrows rose in bemused surprise at her behavior. Irulan locked eyes with him again, then. "If you make this easy, I will do anything, I swear."

His eyebrows rose even further at that. "Anything?" was his suggestive answer. 

"Well......." she said then, shifting with unease and trying to read his expression. 

"Do not tempt me, Irulan," he whispered into her ear then, softly biting her earlobe as Irulan grew red with embarrassment and her knees weakened instantly with excitement.

"I am not," she hissed, detaching herself, to gain room to breathe again. Legolas chuckled and she gave him a nasty look. 

"Besides," he said then with a low voice, stepping behind her again and continuing his work, "if I am not mistaken, this ceremony will grant me such distinctive rights anyway." He tied another knot, drawing the belt tighter, "And we will have a lot of time to discuss what 'anything' includes, my love," he added with a dangerous smile. 

"Legolas!" she hissed, damning the ability of humans to blush. 

"Yes, Irulan?" was his suggestive reply. 

She rolled her eyes and tried to distract herself. "This does not look right on me," she said, giving herself a scrutinizing look. 

"Because you are thinner now," he said with a bitter tone, adjusting yet another belt. 

"Oh," she said, carefully avoiding the subject, knowing that Legolas was biting his tongue on the matter and that he would burst with anger if she but only gave him a chance to speak. 

"Well........does it show?" she said after a moment's silence. 

He met her eyes in the reflection, and Irulan swallowed with the look he gave her. "*I* see the difference, Irulan," he said slowly. 

She gulped and shrugged, returning her gaze to her gown, turning ever so slightly on her spot. "I don't think it is that evident really," she said then with mock disinterest. 

"Really?" was his dry reply when another icy stare rested on her. 

After a moment's tense silence Irulan moaned "Legolas....."

"But I am not concerned," he cut her off with a smooth voice, that damnable elven blankness on his face again. 

"You are not?" she said, a little stupefied at being cut off so. 

Legolas shook his head, grinding his jaw, the aura of threat not leaving him. "For after the ceremony, Irulan," he said with a low voice, as he walked around and stood looking down at her, "we will change a lot of things. And I presume that 'anything' includes eating habits as well." The elf stared at her with such dare that she lacked the courage of challenging him. 

"I suppose I deserved that," she mumbled then, swallowing softly and looking away. 

Legolas smiled and lifted her hand for a strong kiss, followed by gentle kisses on each finger. "I shall take good care of you, Irulan," he said then, folding his other hand on hers as well. 

She nodded then. "Legolas?" she said with a timid voice. 

"Yes?" he whispered, releasing his hand to glide his fingers over her cheekbone in a gentle caress. 

"What of my family?"

He halted in mid-action then and remained still as he looked down at her and she looked up at him, tempted to bite her nails. 

"They will be judged and punished," he said gently. "You know that."

"I know," she sighed, shifting a little on her feet. 

"It is only just," he added then in a soothing manner. 

"It is," she sighed, looking away. 

Another silence followed, but it was short-lived. "Do not worry yourself with such needless details, Irulan."

Irulan chuckled then, despite herself, and a moment later her features grew grim again. "Is it true that they are being kept in the dungeons?" she said then, daring to glance up at him again. "In the dark?"

Legolas pursed his lips, suppressing the urge to curse out loud and ask her from whom she had obtained that information as his blue eyes did not blink. "They are only receiving what they have offered to others," he said after a moment. When she did not speak and swallowed in uneasiness, he took a deep breath, his fingers resuming his caress on her cheek while his other hand entwined with hers. "Irulan," he began carefully, but she cut him off:

"What will the punishment be?"

Legolas exhaled in frustration, shifting slightly on his feet as well, "Whatever is just," he said then. His fingers glided to her chin and pulled it up to look into her eyes. "Why do you insist to torture yourself so? Leave it to me. I shall take care of it."

"But Legolas-.."

He placed his fingers on her lips and she stilled in frustration. "Have mercy on yourself, Irulan," he whispered then. "And on me. I will take care of it."

"You will take care of that, too?" she said, a little bewildered. He nodded, kissing her palm again in gentle slowness. 

"What will *I* take care of, then?" she said with a tinge of frustration. 

"You, Irulan," he whispered, kissing her palm again, "will take care of me. For I am very much in need of it."

She looked up at him, nodding with reluctance. She would let go. She had decided to, did she not? She would trust Legolas and let go. Let him make the decisions for a while. Just lie back and relax. "Are you really?" she said gently and watched his eyes light up with joy. 

"Gravely so," he whispered, his eyes glued to hers. 

Irulan sighed and embraced him, as he embraced her back. "If I survive this day, I will," she mumbled into his chest and Legolas chuckled, stroking her back. 

"Let me take a look at you, Irulan," he said then, stepping back and walking around her. "You look perfect, my love," he whispered, standing before her again. 

She glanced up at the black and silver outfit of the Prince and looked away in frustration. "Not nearly as perfect as you," she said then. "All will think that I am no fitting wife for someone like-...."

"Irulan!" he said with a tinge of anger. 

"Alright, alright!" she moaned, covering her face with her hands and taking a deep breath. 

"The Valar help me! What will I DO?!" she whined then, looking up at him. Legolas' expression softened at that.

"Here," he said gently, his fingers gliding into hers, "take my hand."

"How can you be so calm, Legolas?" she hissed then with irritation. 

"I don't know, he said, "guiding her out of the room, slowly so that she would not panic any further. "I suppose it is because one of us has to be."

"What if I make a fool out of myself?" she yelped, not aware that they had exited the room and were already walking down the corridor, "What if I stand there and-"

"Irulan," he growled with evident threat. 

She huffed and massaged her face. "Legolas, I think I will faint. And throw up. And tremble. And.......DIE!" she whined then. 

He smiled down at her with sympathy. "It is only an official event," he soothed her. "The bonds between us are far deeper and grounded. They were placed much earlier."

By that time they had reached the largest garden where the ceremony would take place. To Irulan's dismay a gigantic crowd was already there, waiting for the couple. Upon their arrival they all stood up and a roar of an applause began. She flinched and unconsciously squeezed Legolas' hand as he stood level with her, ignoring everyone else and looking only at her. "Look at me, Irulan," he said, his voice reaching her over the tumult. She looked up at him and he nodded, smiling softly. Irulan pursed her lips and took a deep breath. "I am here. Everyone else is of no importance," he said, folding his other hand on hers as well. 

She exhaled and closed her eyes momentarily. He was right. Nothing else was of importance. Irulan cared nothing for the marriage. Or the exchange of words. Or royal customs. Neither did she care about being a queen or living in a palace or having everything in her reach. She only cared to be with Legolas and to make him happy. And if she had to marry to do that – so be it! 

When she opened her eyes again, a strange calmness had overcome her. She glanced up at Legolas again, oblivious of the continuing applause. "I am ready. Let's do this," she said then and her voice sounded foreign to her own ears. 

The Prince smiled a fabulous smile. "As my queen wishes," he said and began to stride towards the altar, hand in hand with Irulan, as waves of curtsy and bows traveled through the sea of people around them. 

****


	34. Farewell, You Are No More

TO ALL MY READERS:

There it is. The final chapter. Though I am tempted to write an epilogue, and most probably will. 

What a ride it was! From fairy tale to THIS! And you have remained with me at it till the very end, with your gracious support and kindness. That is the reason the story has probably made it this far. A fairy tale it was meant to be, and so it shall end. 

Though love never does and never will.

Till we meet again………………

"......and when there is need, I shall be fuel to your fire. And when you demand, I shall be water to your flame. And we shall be like earth and seed. Like river and rain. Like balm and pain."

Legolas turned to her and she mimicked him, looking up to meet his gaze, preparing herself to repeat his sentences again. 

"I shall be your step for higher altitude. And your haven for mighty storms. I shall be cure for your pain. Strength for your weakness. I shall lift you when you fall. And protect you when you fear. And above all, I shall love and respect you, for you have agreed to look beyond my weakness and my flaws. You have agreed to tolerate my mistakes and my falls. You have agreed to overlook my shame and my faults. May the Valar bless our life and clear our Fate." 

Legolas leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips then, and Irulan, who was under the protective calmness of listening and repeating, suddenly woke up to reality with that kiss. Not to mention, the hail that rose with it. She blinked and looked up to his gaze, suddenly feeling too far awake and exposed. A moment later she gulped and diverted her gaze to her own hands which she had folded and which seemed to have begun trembling a little. Legolas' hands found hers and he pulled them up for a kiss, completely oblivious to the crowd around them. 

"I love you," he said, leaning in to her ear for her to hear it over the incredible noise. She swallowed again, feeling the undeniable burning sensation in her throat and nodded. 'It is supposed to be romantic,' she thought. 'It is supposed to be breath-taking, damn it! But it feels so.....scary!'

"I.....love you too, Legolas," she whispered, although she was not sure whether the elf heard her or read her lips. "It is over?" she said then, still stupefied by her sudden awakening. 

He smiled and kissed her again, taking her hand in his once more. "This part is," he said and guided her through the crowd as Irulan spotted a shouting Eowyn with an amused Haldir by her side and the incredibly handsome and fabulously dressed trio of Boromir, Eomer and Aragorn. Arwen was there, beyond words in her majestic beauty, and Gandalf stood, clasping Chemarit on the back while the old man sniffed and cried happy tears. She saw Gimli jumping amongst the throng, no doubt to get a better view, a very angry expression on his face 

'A queen should act different,' Irulan thought with dismay. 'A queen should be calm. And composed. And.....cool.' She swallowed hard, her gaze wandering over the seemingly endless masses as her knees weakened with the sight alone. 'I can do this. I can, damn it! I have survived three days in the wilderness. I just have to breathe. And walk. And keep my head up. That's all. It's easy, really.'

But it was not easy at all. Perhaps for royalty. Perhaps for someone used to appear in crowds. Not for Irulan, though, who had lived her whole life in a windowless basement with three witches to punish her every move. It was only natural that her lungs simply ceased to function and she swayed, barely keeping herself from losing her footing. Legolas, focused on her enough to read the tell-tale signs of it, instantly caught her and steadied her without losing his smile. Thanks to his calmness and his expression, the crowd took that as a simple gesture and did not cease its cheering. 

The elf heard none of it as he held on tighter to her. "Irulan," he said, looking at her with a cool demeanor, but eyes that spoke of terror, "what is it?!" Certain that he could not be overheard in this noise, he continued: "I will take you to the healers. But pretend that you are well, or you will cause panic."

"No, I AM well, Legolas," she said, "I just....my knees feel a little weak, that's all."

He faced her then, his blue eyes boring into her. "You are not well! You look incredibly pale, Irulan. You have been swaying all the time. And you are still weak and thin. It has been a mistake to rush so!" he hissed in anger. "My selfishness again!"

"If you think that I will spend my wedding day in the House of Healers, think again!" she hissed then, barely keeping herself from struggling out of his grip. 

"It is alright. I will be with you," he said gently, but she cut him off:

"No!" The Prince did not slow down but gave her an amazed look. "Legolas, please," she said with exasperation and this time his pace slackened and looked back at her with a worried glance. "Please. That's not how I want to remember this day."

At that, the Prince finally stopped, only a few steps from the exit. He glanced at it, then towards his right where the tables were set, hesitating in indecision. Irulan sighed and smoothed her skirts, smiling to the crowd while the applause slowly began to fade. She looked up to the penetrating gaze of Legolas and placed her hand into the crook of his arm. "Alright. Now please lead me to the table, will you?"

Legolas pursed his lips and nodded, doing exactly that and sitting down with her as the musicians took this as a sign to begin a sweet and soothing melody and the guests slowly dispersed to their places, clearing the premises. 

"Stop looking at me like I am about to die!" she whispered to him.

The elf took a deep breath then, tearing his eyes from her. "I am worried, Irulan," he said dryly, not convinced of her well-being. 

"Aren't you always?" was her reply, her gaze fixed ahead, on the incoming guests, carrying gifts for the King and Queen. 

He gave her another amazed look and she beamed at him. "Do not tell me that you feel well," he growled. 

"I can survive this. I survived worse," she said with determinism. 

Legolas sighed and shook his head. "Good that one of us will." Irulan laughed out loud, surprising him with a kiss on the cheek. When she pulled back a moment later, they stared at each other with astonishment at her first bold attitude in public. He broke into a sly smile, his fingers gliding over hers and enfolding them. 

"Please make a habit of that," he whispered as Irulan swallowed softly and looked away, resuming her statuesque stance in the chair. 

"I can't BELIEVE I did that!" she hissed a moment later, fighting and for the first time winning the battle against a blush. 

"Do it again, my love," he said suggestively, enjoying her state far too much. 

Irulan tried to pry off her hand without success and he chuckled at that. "Legolas! I'm afraid your shamelessness is beginning to affect me, too!" she said with a bitter edge, trying to concentrate on the first incoming people and ignoring the laughter of the Prince sitting beside her. 

The remainder of the night was a source of disbelief to Irulan, who, for most of the time, only managed to look serene in spite of her deep bafflement. For a woman who had received almost no gifts all her life, the upcoming hours were beyond stupefying. Objects of startling beauty and mesmerizing value were held up to her and presented with a respectful bow. They ranged from the smallest to the largest, from the most complicated to the most simple, from well known to quite uncommon and rare. Ithilien was one of the most powerful kingdoms in Middle Earth and such an event offered the chance for many other kingdoms and tribes and lands to show their respect and sympathy to it. There were also many gifts from the public, left to the palace gates and summoned by the staff. They ranged from fruit to simple garments or paintings, from household items to unusual pieces of art. It would take Irulan several months to go through all these gifts and write notes of gratitude and thanks to the concerned parties – which act, by the way, was very unusual and was received with utmost surprise and joy.

For now she only sat and watched and smiled and thanked as the line refused to get shorter. It was to her luck that only the highest ranking royals and representatives actually were allowed to deliver their gifts personally, while the staff (upon the Prince's request) advanced the remaining parties and kindly asked for them to give up their presents for later inspection – since the night was getting shorter. Thankfully! Or else, the couple could have sat there for at least a few days. 

It was the later hours of the night, but the celebration knew no time and therefore dinner was served to everyone. Irulan and Legolas were guided to a table where seats were reserved for their closest friends who sprang to their feet upon their arrival. 

"Legolas! That I would live to see the day you look like this!"

"How do you mean, Gandalf?" was his soft reply. 

"So….vivid! And sparkling!"

"Indeed, Wizard!" guwaffed Gimli then, "I almost thought that a frown would be the Prince's permanent mark!"

Soft laughter erupted from the table as Legolas corrected him: "King, Gimli - King Legolas," upon which the Lord of the Glittering Caves grinned and bowed his head slightly.

"What a fantastic tale this is! I insist that your paintings should be added to the ones of Ithilien heroes!" said Elrond with cool amusement. 

"In that case, ours should be added as well," said Eowyn with a slight grin, "many of us fought incredibly to make it happen."

"Well…no one can deny that I have played the largest part in this tale," Boromir said suddenly. Tonight he looked simply beyond words - his black velvet tunic embroidered with gold was astonishing, to say the least. When the Prince rose his eyebrows to his remark, he added "Alright…not large perhaps…but…the most important, for certain!"

Upon the questioning gazes he received from the table he smirked with delight. "Well…if Lady Irulan had not run into me that day…none of this would have happened, or no?"

"*I* ran into YOU?" Irulan said in astonishment. 

"Yes you did," was his cool reply, with an added "Your Highness" at the end. 

Irulan rolled her eyes and gave him a nasty glare while Legolas chuckled softly. 

"And *I* convinced her that she has chosen the right path by choosing you," came Arwen's husky voice as a surprised Prince turned to her. Her eyebrows rose in a gentle arc as the most beautiful smile was displayed on her lips. Aragorn, who was sitting beside her, was amazed as well and just continued staring at her while the Rivendell Princess locked eyes with Irulan, laughing softly and raising her goblet, to which the Queen replied in the same fashion, with twinkling eyes. 

"Eh…I had the honor of expressing my thoughts about love……and if ANYONE," Gimli said, squirming in his seat and glancing at Legolas, "took heed of them…I suppose I had a contribution, too."

"Well my mere presence is an inspiration, so I take some of the glory of this happening as well," mused Haldir. When Irulan and Legolas looked at each other, astounded, he added with a cool demeanor: "I am an elf. A fine one, am I not?" with that, he smiled at Eowyn, who laughed and grinned back, nudging his ribs. "I am certain that Lady Irulan's affection for all elves –including the Prince- is at least a little bit due to my charm."

Irulan laughed out loud at that, clapping her hands and Haldir bowed his head ceremoniously, grinning with delight. 

"Well……I refused to help her run off," said an amused Aragorn into the laughter, and received a nasty look from Irulan. In reply he just raised his goblet and smirked his famous smirk. 

"What did YOU do, Gandalf?" said Eowyn then with mock innocence and the old man once again chocked on his pipe. He gave her a very irritated and meaningful glance and hastily coughed: "Nothing! I absolutely did nothing!"

"Really?" she said slyly and, not really caring about the extra poisonous glare from Chemarit she was getting, continued: "Let us not forget about Dernhelm!"

"Dernhelm?" was Haldir's dry question, for he wasn't too amused with Eowyn's infatuation with that man, "What on earth did HE do?"

"He convinced Irulan to come to the Ball in the first place," she said with a cool voice, locking eyes with Irulan, who grinned in return. 

Legolas swallowed softly and did not look up from his hand caressing the stem of his own goblet. He did not want anything to happen that would ruin his night and the issue of Dernhelm was a dangerous one from that aspect. 

"Is that not so, Irulan?" prodded on. 

"It is," she mused, not caring about the slight flush on Chemarit and Gandalf's face, either. To be honest, she was beginning to enjoy this Dernhelm issue with each day a little more. 

Chemarit and Gandalf, now more than uncomfortable with Eowyn's boldness, urged everyone to get to the dancing, then, and scurried them away like a bunch of chickens while the company laughed and sprang to their feet, proceeding to the clearing that had been provided for such an activity. Many ladies had been eyeing the most privileged guests from afar and it was not hard to find a dancing partner for the men in the group, with the exception of Aragorn and Haldir, of course. 

Legolas turned to look down at Irulan, then, a graceful smile on his lips, and was about to ask her for a dance himself (finally!), when Eowyn ran back to them. "Oh, I almost forgot!" she said, grabbing and bringing out a package she had been keeping by her chair. "Dernhelm sent this," she added with a slight and sly grin on her face. "As a wedding gift."

Irulan raised her eyebrows and accepted the present as the elf shifted uncomfortably beside her on his seat. "Ah how kind of him!" she said, locking eyes with Eowyn and proceeding to open the package. 

"He said he always wanted you to have it, Irulan," the blonde girl continued, clasping her hands behind her back and pushing up her chin. No matter how hard she tried, she could not help her gaze gliding to the Prince, and it was hard not to grin openly with satisfaction at the sour expression on his face Legolas was battling so dearly to hide. 

"Oh my!" exclaimed Irulan suddenly, pulling out a white and quite....daring.....nightshift. She remained looking at it, trying to find something to say, and momentarily failing to do so. Once again she locked eyes with Eowyn, who grinned openly to her now. Both women jumped slightly with the pound of Legolas' fist on the table. 

"What in Uroth's name is THAT?!" he hissed, finally giving up the battle with his temper. 

"A......well......" stammered Irulan and Eowyn smoothly cut in:

"A nightshift, Prince Legolas. And dare I say it....a very......pretty one as well."

Legolas swallowed hard and gave it a nasty stare, then returned his gaze to Eowyn whose grin prevailed against all odds. "I can see that," he hissed. He looked at the piece of clothing again, the urge to reach out and tear it to pieces growing stronger and stronger as Irulan hastily folded it and put it away from his reach. Their eyes locked then and she folded her hands on the table, staring calmly back. 

"Yes Legolas?" she said with a cool voice. 

"Irulan," he said with a low growl, "I am making no promises about my behavior in case that.....damnable.....friend of yours shows up again."

"Legolas!" she said with shock, "It is only a gift!"

"A highly unfitting one!" he hissed in return, his gaze wandering to the package again. 

"Do not mind him, Your Highness," broke in Eowyn, bowing to both of them before she left. "It is Dernhelm's way."

Irulan shrugged in confirmation, her smile well hidden. The elf exhaled in frustration. "When will we get rid of the memory of this man?!" he said, pounding his fist on the table again. 

"Legolas, stop doing that," she said, shifting with discomfort in her seat. At the sight of his hard glare she sighed and pulled up his hand to kiss it. He diverted his gaze to the table then, unable to still the fire of fury in him, even though her attention was softening it incredibly. Irulan smiled at his childish attitude and after a momentary hesitation, leaned in and placed another kiss on his cheek. The elf sighed then and looked back at her, breaking into a smile. "Fine," he said with a low voice, frustrated at being so weak, but not caring anyway. "But promise not to wear it, Irulan."

"But it is so pretty!"

"It does not matter!" he said a trifle too loud, then hastily continued in a softer tone: "I will have a far more beautiful one prepared for you."

She smiled wickedly to that. "As you wish," she said and watched his face shine as if he had just fought a fierce battle with Dernhelm himself and won an impressive victory. He caught her face and placed a kiss on her lips. 

"Come," he said, sprinting on his feet and pulling Irulan with him. She laughed softly, then complied and let him guide her out of the garden, as the immense crowd parted to give them passage while words of congratulation rose around them. After crossing the hall Legolas hastened his steps and Irulan pulled up her skirts to aid her running. 

"Slow down! You will make me fall!" she said in exasperation, still giggling. The elf did not reply other than a laugh and kept pulling her along. On and on they ran until they reached the stables where he halted, his grip on her hand growing. 

"What is happening?" she said, out of breath and feeling with dismay that sweat was breaking on her back. 

"I have not given you MY wedding gift yet, Irulan," he said softly, smiling down at her. 

Irulan blinked in surprise and laughed out loud again, holding her ribs to prevent the pain. "I thought......I thought," she tried in between laughter, "the throne of Ithilien was it."

Legolas chuckled along, out of sheer happiness, but shook his head. "Nay. I have a better one."

"Tell me!" Irulan yelped and jumped a little with excitement as the Prince smiled with amusement at her childish glee. 

"I know you value no gowns. Or jewelry. Or gold," he said, stepping further into the stables, pulling her with him. "And you can have those in any amount you wish, anyway. I wanted to give you something personal. Something that belonged to me," he said gently, the darkness of the deserted stables capturing their figures. 

Irulan, heaving with excitement, remained rooted then, gazing ahead. "You.....give me....Arod?" she whispered in awe, unable to look away from the majestic horse that stood watching the couple in its lush private stable. 

Legolas nodded, his gaze fixed on her, their pulses dancing a waltz in their entwined grip. "It is my only personal property," he said slowly as Irulan managed to tear her eyes away from the animal and finally glance up at him. "And now it belongs to you, as everything else that I have and that I am," he finished, smiling a fabulous smile at her shock. 

"I.....can not take this," she said in urgency. "It is too precious a gift, Legolas!"

"Nonsense," he said and swatted away her alarm. "I was hoping that he will aid you in overcoming your fear, Irulan."

She gave him a long look and finally gazed back at Arod, slowly walking up to it. Legolas guided her hand to it's neck and Irulan swallowed softly, the fear gently tugging at her wits, but the amazement of the moment suppressing it. Her fingers glided down the coarse hair, feeling the life embedded underneath them. "You think so?" she whispered, not really aware of what she was saying, only entranced by the dark silence of the stables and the presence of Legolas and this beautiful beast with her. 

"I know so," he whispered in reply, his eyes glued to hers as he leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on her cheek. 

Irulan nodded, continuing to stroke Arod's neck and smiling up at him. "I have no gift to give," she said finally, his penetrating gaze heavy on her. 

"You have your love to give," he said a long moment later, wishing this moment to stretch into eternity. "And your tenderness. And your comfort. And strength." His hand glided down her back and then back up, caressing her neck as they remained looking at each other, Arod neighing softly under Irulan's gentle strokes. "And your support. And forgiveness, Irulan."

Irulan chuckled, stepping away from the horse to throw her arms around his neck. "Take it then. It is yours!" 

He kissed her gently, his hand drawing her closer by the waist as his other hand landed on her nape, slightly tilting her head. Irulan embraced him stronger, feeling his lips put that immensely strong spell on her again and herself gliding out of reality at it once more. She felt herself whirling the soft whirl of entrancement, her body sighing and declaring surrender in the face of passion. Until Arod neighed once more and both chuckled and broke away. "I think he is jealous of you," Legolas laughed, leaning his forehead on hers. "I have simply too many rivals when it comes to you, Irulan!"

The woman laughed too, glancing at the horse. "You have no rivals, Legolas. None can measure up to you," she chuckled, giving him a last kiss before she returned to caressing Arod's neck again, already bolder in doing so. "Though, I have to admit," she sighed, joyful at the animal leaning in to her touch, "I am fairly taken by this creature."

Legolas smiled and embraced her waist, standing behind her as Irulan did not cease to caress the stallion that neighed with satisfaction. Neither knew that the Prince would regret many times yet to come giving such a gift to Irulan, since Arod indeed aided her to overcome her fear and she became bolder and bolder in her little riding trips, thereby bringing Legolas to the edge of losing his mind with anxiety several times. Nor did they know that Irulan would not only torture the elf so, but also his staff, because she would habitually ride out with Arod when Legolas had to attend his duties in other cities or towns and could not -for this or that reason (usually the danger of the situation)- take Irulan along with him. The servants, upon her disappearance on the horse would go frantic; blanching with the thought of what the Prince would inflict on them upon his return if she but suffered the slightest injury. Unfortunately Arod happened to be an incredibly capable, strong and witty horse and given such a daring and crazy rider, found it more than easy to lose all pursuers set to follow them or outrun all riders, determined to bring the queen back to the castle. Irulan would just laugh her mad laugh and kick her horse softly as the stallion, with a sly look in his eyes, would turn around and evade a fuming party of Eomer, Boromir and Aragorn. 

However, such devilish acts were far from them yet as the trio stood in the lush stables, caught in a tangled web of tenderness, love and hope for good days to come. 

"I can't believe that we have come this far," she murmured, lost in the daze of the moment. 

"Together, we shall go further," was his soft reply from behind her. 

"One lifetime with you will not be enough, Legolas," she sighed, the wine she had gulped down greedily to ease her tension finding its way to her mind. 

"We shall have many," he said, his hand combing through her hair as he placed his chin on her shoulder. 

"Will you find me again?"

"It was you who found me, Irulan," the elf chuckled softly. "And I hope that next time you will lay your hand on my shoulder, yet again to start another common journey with different vessels, but the same spirits." 

Irulan gazed at Arod, not really seeing it. She nodded seriously. "I shall do so, then," she said and Legolas laughed again, embracing her tighter.

****

"Legolas, I think I will really and truly die! I am so tired!" she yawned, as they walked in a laid-back stroll towards their chambers.

Legolas looked down at her with a gentle smile. He did not speak for many moments, observing Irulan as she dragged herself, her eyes drooping with the tiredness. Even now, she was beautiful to him. "Here," he said finally, mainly to shake himself out of the daze of finally having her as his wife, "let me carry you."

"We're almost there," Irulan mumbled but he refused to listen, slowly picking her up. 

"You are so much lighter now, Irulan," he said, his brows furrowing again and she decided not to answer, leaning her head on his shoulder. His walk was slow and easy – he wanted the night to go on forever so that it could be memorable in his mind for many years to come. 

"What will we do tomorrow?" she sighed, trying not to fall asleep. 

"Tomorrow we shall rest. For you seem very exhausted and naturally so."

"What about your duties?"

"Aye, I will tend to them as of morrow," he replied as the doors to his chambers appearing before them in the distance. 

"Will I have duties, too?" she mumbled, managing to raise her head to look up at him. 

"You mean other than tending to me?" he said with a sly smile.

"As a Queen, Legolas," she said dryly.

He chuckled then. "Of course you will. But…you have time yet, Irulan. Do not tire yourself too much, or else your cure will be prolonged. I shall take care of it all until you feel up for it."

"You take care of EVERYTHING, Legolas," she whined in mock exasperation, dropping her head back as the guards opened their chamber doors and he entered a very impressive room. 

"What happened here?" Irulan asked in bafflement. 

"The staff prepared a surprise for us, it seems." His gaze wandered around the chamber that was now hardly recognizable with all the candles, flowers, flowing fabrics drowning it. 

"How nice of them," Irulan mumbled as the elf approached the bed and gently lay her down. "Legolas! Let me sleep in this gown. I have no strength to undress, I swear," she whined. 

The King laughed and removed her sandals, then proceeded to roll Irulan on her stomach to loosen the straps and belts of the gown. "Allow me, my wife," he said slowly and Irulan fell asleep as he gently undressed her, careful not to wake Irulan and then dressed her in her nightshift. She woke up a few times, but was too tired to remain so and swiftly glided back into sleep. Finally Legolas pulled the covers over her and undressing himself, blew the candles out and joined her in the bed. When he did, she cuddled closer to him and he embraced her shoulders, drawing her near, placing a warm kiss on her forehead.

"Are you happy now?" she whispered, half asleep and half awake. 

"Very much so," he said, caressing her shoulder. 

"So am I," she mumbled almost inaudibly. "It IS true," she added a moment later, raising herself a little to look down at him, – though it was too dark for her to see his face. "You always get what you want!"

Legolas chuckled and pulled her back down. "Sleep, love," he said gently and Irulan obliged almost instantly. 

He did not join her for a long time, though, lying in deep darkness with Irulan in his arms, his mind soaring the past, the present and the future. Memories of their times together mingled with her current warmth against him and faded into future hopes of their marriage. And then there had been a time……a distant, old and tattered time – almost like a fable now, when there had been a Prince, sitting on his throne in a gigantic castle, his chin cupped in his hand, his gaze fixed on the dusty floor before him. That Prince, so broken and lost in his silent sadness……who was he? He seemed familiar, as did his melancholy…his tired battle with himself…his deep and fiery longing. But…no matter how familiar or not – that Prince was gone. He had died in the forest one summer day, weeks ago. No one had wept for him. No one had missed him. No one even remembered him any longer. Perhaps, he had not been worthy of remembrance. Perhaps, in all his grace and talent and skill, he had been as empty as a deserted cocoon, of which life had flown out. As empty as a vessel from which the water had been removed. As empty as a seed from which the plant had already sprouted. Useless. Pointless. 

That Prince had lived a long life, doing many deeds. And who remembered him now? Gone he was. Into the folds of time he was pressed, forever embedded in a slumber. Legolas sighed and smiled to himself as Irulan mumbled in her sleep. "Farewell," he whispered into the silence of the chamber and the Prince stirred, looking up to him with his blue gaze, slowly removing his hand from his chin as he leaned back on his throne. Their identical eyes met and once more, Legolas said "Farewell. You are no more. Farewell." The Prince leaned back completely, clenching his jaws, an unreadable blankness on his face. Beautiful he was in his coldness. Immaculate in his statuesque iciness. 

But useless. Pointless. 

And no more. 

***

THE END


	35. Epilogue, A Tale Of The Heart

How very long for an epilogue! 

And yet, too short to put a long, grand future into words. 

Perhaps, then, it is not an epilogue. But rather a glance at lives while no one is looking. Behold, the curtain opens! 

Haldir strode into the hall with large steps, and was surprisingly loud for an elf as his boots caused a thunderous echo in the palace of Ithilien. The servant that was supposedly there to guide him was trailing behind, unable to keep up with the Lord of the Lothlorien elves and at this moment, actually not really trying very hard, either. The elf seemed to be rather.....fuming.....to say the least. 

When they finally arrived at the Hall and the servant saw the awaiting Chief Advisor, who had been standing with his hands clasped behind his hand, turn around to welcome Lord Haldir, he took this perfect opportunity and bowed (though none saw him doing so), then hastily left to inform the King that Lord Haldir had arrived. 

When Aragorn realized the obvious anger and anxiety on the elf's face, he felt the blood leaving his own face, too. 

"Where is she?!" boomed Haldir, unable to keep it in any further. 

Aragorn moaned and brought his hand up to massage his forehead. "I'll be damned!" he mumbled. 

"Where is she? Tell me that she is here!" the elf continued, finally arriving at the man's side and looking at him with a little too much emotion for an elf. 

"No," sighed Aragorn, dropping his hand and locking eyes with him then, "YOU tell me that you did not lose them.....AGAIN!"

"I did not lose them!" hissed Haldir. "They lost me, cursed be it all!"

The Ranger moaned, unable to do anything else. "How on earth," he began, his voice gaining a prominent edge with each word, "can YOU –being the elf, the man, and the warrior- lose two inexperienced women?!"

"First off," Haldir hissed, his voice cold as ice, but his demeanor very calm, "I did not chase them. Because they said they were to be in Rivendell."

"And you believed them?" asked Aragorn dryly.

"And secondly," Haldir continued, pretending not to have heard his intervention, "it was not two women....but three."

A moment of silence passed. Then Aragorn whispered "T-three?"

Haldir raised his eyebrows and nodded very slowly, his gaze glued to the eyes of the Chief Advisor. Aragorn, on the other hand, swallowed hard and felt the world begin to whirl. Literally. "Not AGAIN!" he hissed, Haldir's anger finding its way to his own heart. 

"Yes," the elf said then with a cool voice, "unfortunately AGAIN."

"We are doomed!" He tried to breathe deeper so that the darkness of the world would lift a little. "Wait until Legolas hears of this."

"Hear of what?" came the King's voice at that very moment and both Lothlorien elf and Ranger just looked at each other, their eyes swiftly widening while their stance remained the same. 

As usual, no sound emerged from his footsteps before Legolas appeared next to them, looking from one man to the other. "Lord Haldir? Aragorn? Hear what?"

"We.....we were just saying," swallowed the other elf and finally managed to tear his gaze from the Ranger to look at the King of Ithilien. "That......that......."

But Legolas was far from stupid. He swallowed hard and his face blanched with each word. "Where are they?" he cut in with a whisper. 

"And....huh? Who?"

The King clenched his jaws with impatience and Haldir gave up on his pathetic attempt of lying.

"You lost them," Legolas hissed then. And it was not a question. He added "AGAIN!" with an even fiercer hiss. 

"I did not lose-.."

"I can not BELIEVE you, Haldir!" boomed the Ihtilien King. 

"What on earth could I-.."

"If anything happens – and I mean ANYTHING!....."

"Now really, King Legolas," cut him off Haldir, starting to feel angry, too.

"ANYTHING, Haldir!" hissed Legolas, stepping towards the other elf. 

"I should say the same!" seethed Haldir, and took a step himself. 

"What is that supposed to mean?" was the low growl of an answer. 

"It means that it was not ME who encouraged my wife for riding lessons!"

Legolas' eyes widened slightly with disbelief. Grinding his teeth, he took another step towards the other elf. "What," he rumbled with evident threat, "are you saying? That it is MY fault?!"

"In a way....." 

"Don't you DARE accuse ME! This always happens because you can not get a hold on Eowyn and-"

"LADY Eowyn, King Legolas!" growled Haldir. 

The other elf suddenly clasped his hands behind his back and pushed up his chin, amusement adorning his features. "She does not like to be called so, you know that."

The Lothlorien elf shut his mouth then and the anger on his usually serene face made him look rather silly. He closed his eyes to gain some control over himself, then continued with a cooler tone of voice: "In any case.......it is not my fault, really." He looked up to lock his blue gaze with the frosty glare of the other elf. "They said that they were going to Rivendell. And how could I know that they left Rivendell days ago......" with that, he turned to gaze at the rather irritated Chief Advisor, "…..WITH Princess Arwen." He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. "I would have never found out if I did not have to contact Lord Elrond for an urgent matter and if he had not told me that supposedly they set off to Ithilien days ago. No need to mention that I became suspicious of this last minute change in plans."

"Oh dear Uroth!" moaned Aragorn and covered his face again. 

"How long ago?" said Legolas, swallowing softly. 

"Four days."

"FOUR DAYS?!" shouted Legolas and both Haldir and Aragorn actually and literally jumped at that. The Lord of Ithilien paled visibly, his eyes widening with alarm. "And what, in the name of the Valar," he continued then, taking yet another step and standing nose to nose with Haldir now, "took you so long to INFORM US ON THE MATTER?!!"

"Well first off, I thought they actually came here!" the other elf exclaimed in reply. And the yelling of two elves was not exactly something one would witness every day. So Aragorn stood aside and watched in amazement. 

"And you did not inquire?!" echoed the King's voice in the Hall (and probably far beyond that, too). 

"NO! Because I had no reason to think otherwise!" At that, Legolas looked at him, agape and Haldir hastily added: "I mean after that last.....dreadful.....time, I assumed that they knew better than to try another escapade!"

"EXACTLY! Good thing you brought it up yourself – the disastrous last time, that is!"

"And it only happens because you can not refuse her anything, Lord Legolas!"

The sharpness of the moment rose to such a degree that Aragorn was compelled into action and he walked up to put his hand on the King's shoulder, though the other gave no indication of feeling it. "You are treading on dangerous ground, Lord Haldir," was the spiteful reply. 

"So I am! And yet......I am right," Haldir said coldly.

"Right you may be," groaned Legolas then, "but no better than me. So keep your opinion to yourself!"

Haldir swiftly turned away then. They were both just simply pathetic when it came to denying Eowyn or Irulan anything and the dreadful part was that both were aware of it, too. 

The silence that set in was very thick and none broke it, until Aragorn spoke up: "Well......we should probably......go looking, right?"

Both elves turned to him then, displeasure evident on their faces. "And exactly WHERE do you plan to look, Aragorn?" seethed his King as Haldir crossed his arms in an impatient manner and shifted on his feet to look down at him. 

"Well.....we need to.......I.....DON'T KNOW!"

"EXACTLY," hissed both elves in unison. 

****

"Where exactly ARE we?"

"Who the heck knows?! And if you tell me that that in the distance is Barad-Dur, I will personally kill you, Eowyn!"

The blonde girl squeezed her eyes, holding up her hand to block out the sun. She gazed for a few moments, then said "You know......you might actually be right."

"WHAT?!"

She turned to lock eyes with a shocked Irulan and a rather discomforted Arwen. "Looks like we have been riding through Mordor, ladies!"

Both women gazed back at her with wild alarm, their colors swiftly fading. "Well......t-then......I would say.....it's h-high time to.....turn around, yes?" whispered Arwen, breaking her gaze to hastily look around her. "Don't you agree?" she added a moment later. 

"Totally!" replied Irulan, swallowing softly. "Besides......it's been four days. They might have.....you know.........if they did discover........I mean....."

"Oh, in Uroth's name!" moaned Eowyn and glanced at the tiny speck in the distance again. "We have come THIS far! We can NOT go back now!"

"Why not?" was Arwen's confused statement. 

"Because we might never get this chance again!" she said stubbornly, and crossed her arms on her chest. 

"I certainly HOPE we won't" hissed Irulan with a tinge of anger. 

"Aw come on ladies....."

"No, Eowyn! You will be the end of all of us!"

"Ah for the love of-..."

"NO! Not Mordor! We should head back anyway."

"As if they didn't discover our absence yet!"

"Perhaps we are lucky enough and each will think that we are with the other," mumbled Irulan, unconsciously playing with the reins of her horse, the idea of yet another escapade being uncovered by Legolas sending very nasty feelings through her. 

"Maybe so. But I think they don't believe a single word we say, anymore."

"Neither do I," sighed Arwen. "And I had such a good reputation!" Eowyn and Irulan glanced at each other briefly, then broke into soft laughter. The elf turned her head in surprise. "What?" she said, with that beautiful voice of hers, "I did!"

"Yeah right," mused Eowyn, her grin prevailing. "In another lifetime, Arwen! We had the privilege to have long and quite interesting conversations with Elrond, you know," she said smoothly. "Have we not?"

Irulan replied with a devilish grin. "So we did."

Arwen shook her head in annoyance and turned to look into the distance again, her features growing serious. "Let us return," she said softly, then turned to face the other two. "I do not like it here. Let us go somewhere else."

Irulan nodded in agreement as Arod shifted below her. A cold breeze came up and she pulled her rough protective tunic tighter around the neck. "I agree. But where?"

A short silence set in as all three horses turned and slowly began to descend the hill. It was Eowyn who broke it again: "Oh I KNOW! Follow me ladies!" With that she ululated, making the other two flinch with anxiety and throw uneasy glances around them, afraid that any orcs might have heard that uncanny sound. A moment later Eowyn rode ahead, her black stallion like a dark lightning in the rocky hills. 

Arwen shot Irulan a meaningful glance and the other replied with a roll of her eyes. "When does this woman tire?" 

"Only Haldir knows!" was Irulan's reply. Both giggled and kicked their horses in pursuit. 

*****

When Gimli finally appeared in the Meeting Hall of his labyrinth of a cave, he almost rolled in as a tangled web of anxiety, sweat and horror. At the last minute he found his balance again and managed to run in the last few steps into the large and tall cave chamber that was illuminated with many torches and candles hung and placed on the dense array of hanging and rising rocks adorning it. His eyes darted from one of the cool and composed women to the other while they remained standing with their riding attires, their hands clasped behind their backs and their shoulders pushed back, in silent inspection of the massive empty space around them. For a few moments he only looked in alarm, wishing with all his heart that this was a dream. But when the vision refused to disappear, he swallowed and almost yelped: "Ladies! What, in a Balrog's name, are you doing here?!"

All three pairs of eyebrows rose simultaneously. "Why, Lord Gimli, this was not the welcome we have been expecting," said Arwen with cool surprise. 

The dwarf swallowed again, sweating furiously. "Eh.....NO! No insult was meant....eh.....only.......I mean......it is kind of.....unexpected. If I had known that you would......honor the Glittering Caves with....your presence...eh.....ladies....."

"Ah, enough with the formality!" cut in Eowyn and waved her arm in disinterest. She began to take off her leather gloves, her gaze gliding around the cavern and over the pack of servant dwarves observing them with curiosity and alarm. "We have missed you! It has been too long, and we were riding around, so we decided to come by."

"No preparations are needed for us, Gimli," Irulan said gently, stepping a little forward.

The dwarf heard none of that, except the 'riding around' part, which made him pale against all his heaving. "You have been...." he began to whisper, then swallowed again and stopped himself from finishing the sentence. 

"Are we welcome or not?" said Eowyn, placing her hand on her hip in an impatient way. 

"What?! Of course you are!" exclaimed the dwarf. He tried very hard to relax his features as he walked up to them, bowing to each in return. The women grinned back gloriously. "Is there.....eh.....anyone else to welcome?" was his cautious question.

"Like who, Gimli?" Arwen said in amusement, knowing very well that the dwarf meant their 'men', so to say. 

"Like.....well....."

"No," cut in Irulan. "It is just us. And we hope that it will suffice."

"But of course!" yelled Gimli then, finally getting a grip on himself and managing to look a little more believable. "But let us settle you into your rooms, first. For surely you must be tired. And you will stay the night, no?"

The women glanced at each other, then shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" said Irulan and Gimli barked an order to his servants to guide the ladies to their rooms. As soon as they were out of the Hall, the grabbed a passing servant by the front of his shirt, to which the dwarf almost cried out in surprise and shook him heftily before he said: "Send out pigeons to Ithilien! NOW!" Then he hastily took another glance at the direction the party had left and continued in a lower voice to keep off the echo: "Say that Ladies Eowyn, Arwen and Irulan have arrived and will stay the night. That they are safe and sound. And that *I* have nothing -absolutely NOTHING- to do with this!" The servant nodded vehemently and was about to break free when his Lord took a hold on him again. "On second thought...leave the last part out. That will only seal the suspicion that I HAVE played part! Just.......GO!" he yelled and pushed the dwarf away. The man scurried out of the room as Gimli swallowed again and combed through his beard to calm himself. "The Valar help me to survive this night!" he said grimly and with a deep breath, walked out to give orders for further preparations. 

****

".....and then I just dug my foot into his belly - if you get my meaning!" said Eowyn with obvious amusement. "And another punch on his nape…" she smiled a glorious smile, "…and out he was!" Arwen and Irulan laughed along while the dwarf hastily gulped down another mug of ale to easy his heart. 

"Tell him about the fight that started after that, Eowyn!" chuckled Arwen, her elven beauty receiving curious glances from the dwarven servants. 

"Ah please!" said the blonde woman, waving her hand. 

"A fight began in the inn?!" Gimli coughed. 

"Aye. But both parties effectively eliminated each other before we could swing some fists ourselves," the blonde woman sighed. 

"Yes. Men!" moaned Irulan and drank from her own ale, ignoring the shock of the dwarf. "And then we went on eastwards."

"Eh....." gulped Gimli, his eyes glued to hers, "how much further.....eastwards?"

"Much further," grinned Arwen, toasting her mug with Eowyn's. 

Gimli massaged his face and dared a glance towards the entry of the cavern chamber. How come the company had not arrived yet? He had managed to convince the women to stay for another day by offering a tour of the major attractions of his kingdom. It had been a wild day, with the three girls engaging in all sorts of dangerous acts at almost every location and Gimli finding himself in the role of a grandfather who was about to lose his mind. 

He massaged his face as the words fell from his mouth with an edgy tone: "Don't you fear anything?!" All three women halted to look at him with surprise. 

"Such as?" said Irulan. 

"Such as Uruk-hai!" barked Gimli, beyond himself with anxiety and frustration. "Such as accidents that can leave you broken and bleeding in some pit! And heavy thunderstorms that rip the roots of trees! Such as evil dragons! Such as swamps that would suck you in before you would utter a single cry!" He banged his fist on the table as a silence issued in the room. 

"Well......we have seen none of those," said Arwen finally with a soft and surprised tone. 

"Yes, damn it!" shouted Eowyn then and banged her own fist on the table. "All this traveling and none of the excitement!" All three women toasted to that again, giggling wildly as Gimli moaned and dared another look at the entrance. 

"Though, Eowyn," grinned Arwen then, giving the Lord of the Glittering Caves a sidelong glance, "you forget that we DID have some nasty encounters." When Gimli's head shot up to look at her, she continued, her eyes locked to the other woman's, "Thankfully Dernhelm was there to save us."

"DERNHELM?!" yelped Gimli, agape. 

Arwen grinned in delight. Irulan and Eowyn had finally shared their secret about Dernhelm with her and ever since she enjoyed using his name as often as the other two women did. Because it made all other men incredibly furious and itchy. Both Irulan and Eowyn smirked in reply. 

"Yes. If he were not there, why the orcs would have-" began Irulan but was cut off by Gimli once more: 

"ORCS??!!!"

Eowyn pursed her lips to keep a laughter from escaping. Instead, she inspected the ceiling and sighed: "Yes. They are plenty in Mordor, you know. "

"MORDOR?!" was the thunderous echo in the cavern and it did not erupt from Gimli. The quartet glanced at each other in momentary confusion, then the gaze of the women followed the dwarf's to discover the source of the utterance that was standing at the entrance of the Hall. 

Tears rushed to Irulan's eyes as she tried to push down a cough that battled to gain exit at the sight of a fuming trio of Legolas, Haldir and Aragorn standing in their riding gear, looking like they had rode fast and unrelenting enough to outride Nazguls. She heard Arwen gulping beside her and alas, that did not happen too often to an elf. Especially an elven princess like Arwen. Eowyn's head was turned away from her, so she had no way of seeing her expression, but during her attempt to do so, her eyes collided with the blue fire of Legolas as the King of Ithilien stood with slightly apart feet, his arms crossed on his chest, and the hue of his orbs very distinguishable even from this distance. She mercilessly swallowed the remainder of the ale down, certain that it went the wrong way, and pursed her lips, unable to look away while the fury emanating from the man seemed to fan out of him like waves of earthquakes. 

The silence went on unnaturally long as the staring contest prevailed and only broke because one of the servants shifted slightly and thereby dropped the equipment on his tray, making the women jump with shock, though none of the men moved a hair. 

"Eh.....how very nice.....a.......a.......surprise!" Gimli stuttered then. To his alarm all three women turned to glance down at him, and a fear like no other gripped his heart at their expression. 

"A surprise indeed!" hissed Arwen. 

Gimli, blanching again but determined not to let his facade fall, jumped to his feet and ran around the table to welcome the men, who still stood in a stony manner, refusing to look away from the company of women. 

It was then that the party remaining at the table exchanged looks and there was simply too much in those looks to be translated into words at this moment. There was fear. And alarm. And yet amusement. Along with shock. Together with carelessness. Excitement mingled with stubbornness. And many, many other minute sentiments. 

Gimli bowed vehemently, bidding his guest to join them at the dinner table, but none moved, making the dwarf even more anxious - if such a thing was possible. 

"Do my ears deceive me," began Legolas then, ignoring Gimli completely and making him still his words immediately, "or did I hear right just a moment ago?" He clenched his jaws, not even blinking as his eyes bore into Irulan's. "Where, my wife, have you been?" he seethed. 

Irulan gulped audibly and unable to look away, tried to breathe. "Well I.......Legolas I was........I mean we were....." she stammered, not daring to say the word. 

The vein pulsing in the elf's neck was not good. Not good at all. And she was not the only one who thought so, for all servant dwarfs very fluidly exited the cavern in a matter of moments. Irulan, taking this chance to tear her eyes away, took another gulp from her ale, basically because she did not know what else to do with herself. 

"You have been to MORDOR?" hissed Haldir then and for someone as cool as him to hiss like that was certainly very unnatural. 

"Eh...I am sure that the ladies were only joking," said the dwarf, trying very hard to be noticed, but failing miserably. 

"HAVE YOU?!" thundered Haldir. 

"We have," whispered Arwen, gaining a nasty look from Eowyn. Though it might have been a better thing to do, she simply felt incapable of lying at the moment. 

"In Uroth's name!" moaned Aragorn then, his hand traveling to his temple where a very nasty headache decided to bloom. 

"Ah calm yourselves!" yelped Eowyn finally. "Nothing happened!"

"Nothing happened?!" was the hiss from Haldir. "NOTHING HAPPENED?!" he boomed a moment later and even Aragorn and Legolas gave him an annoyed stare, bidding him silently to lower his tone, since the bouncing echo in the cave was a torture on the ears.  "Yes, nothing happened!" Eowyn yelled back defensively. "Irulan, is that not so?"

Irulan opened her mouth, but unable to talk at the stare she was receiving from Legolas, shut it again, folding her hands on her lap. 

"No worries, my friends," intervened Gimli again, "for they had Dernhelm for protection and-" He shut his mouth when the glances of the men pinned him down like the sight of a giant spider would to a helpless fly. 

Eowyn rolled her eyes at what was about to come and she was not mistaken: "So Dernhelm was indeed with you!" whispered Legolas, his gaze tearing away from Irulan to take in all three women. 

"Is it me," began Aragorn then with a growl, "or do my ladies spend more time with him than with US?"

Haldir pushed up his chin up. "Very right you are, Aragorn. VERY RIGHT," he spat. 

"He saved us," intervened Arwen, regaining some of her usual cool composure. 

"Yes. Because you managed to put yourselves in a position that needed saving, is that not so, dear Princess?" hissed Legolas and Arwen, never too tough when it came to the King of Ithilien, swallowed softly, diverting her gaze to the tablecloth. 

"Eowyn, we need to speak! Alone," said Haldir finally, fixing her with his eyes. 

The blonde woman merely stared back at him. "About exactly what, Haldir?"

The elf pursed his lips and strode towards her, then stood looming over her. "Eowyn," he seethed with evident threat. 

A few moments later Eowyn sighed tiredly and rose to her feet. "Fine, fine! Just calm down for Heaven's sake, Haldir! I mean....you act like I went to Mordor or something!" She grinned openly a moment later and managed a last glance at her shocked friends while she was dragged away by the arm. 

Irulan had to fight twice as much than she had with the cough to suppress a laughter from erupting while she watched Eowyn being dragged away by a silent and furious Haldir. She turned to look at Arwen and almost flinched when she saw Legolas standing right beside her. She just stared back up at him a few moments before he growled "Shall we, Irulan?" Irulan slowly rose from her seat then and turned around with perfect defeat, walking out of the cavern towards their room, not hearing the elf behind her but knowing that he was following at her heels. Her mind turned and churned madly, trying to find something to her advantage. But this was far from the first time they were caught. Far from the fifth one. Even far from the fifteenth time. Legolas was definitely not going to let her off her hook that easily. She sighed and walked into her room then turned in time to see him seal the door. 

The elf slowly leaned back on the wooden frame and crossed his arms on his chest. What could she say that she had not said before? Nothing. And yet, she had to say something. And quickly, too. Irulan decided to begin with the standard apology: "Sorry." That did nothing. Legolas just kept looking at her, without blinking. She pursed her lips as both shame and the slight tingle of fear began to rang in her head. "I did not know it was Mordor!" she said added, her shoulders sagging. The elf just kept looking. Not good. Not good at all. "I swear, Legolas! I mean...I thought it might be.....but......it's not like they have a sign put up somewhere!" The reply was an unrelenting icy gaze. "We did not really ride in too far," she whined. Legolas just kept looking. Irulan fumbled with her hands and bit her lower lip, the panic in her growing. A long silence set in.

Suddenly he spoke: "No more, Irulan," he said, and it came out so calm that the hair on her nape and her arms rose. She swallowed softly and looked up to the blue fire of his gaze. "No more. I will take Arod from you."

Her heart missed a beat as her breath was caught in her throat. The elf's eyes were as blank as two pieces of ice. "Please," she whispered, "please don't." 

Legolas, having said all that there was to say, felt her plea bouncing off his determination and gently stepped away from the doorframe. He turned his back to her and began to take off his weapons and his riding attire. Irulan was momentarily amazed by his coldness towards her, since he very rarely acted so. She knew that this only reflected the depth of his worry and anxiety. But……..she simply could not let him take Arod from her! Arod! She would surely die without the horse! "Please Legolas," she pleaded again. But the elf gave no indication of hearing as he continued his undressing, placing his knives against the wall and proceeding to untie his outer coat. 

Irulan swallowed and approached his back, but remained a step away. She did not dare to touch him when he was this furious. "Legolas!" she whined, "Why do you treat me so?"

Legolas halted in mid-action and turned to look down at her. Instantly she wished she had not spoken that sentence. "Nay, Irulan," he said, "why do YOU treat me so?" Without expecting an answer he turned his back again, continuing his task. 

Irulan felt the rise of frustration to an alarming degree. 'Fine!' she thought, 'Fine! This calls for extreme measures! The MOST extreme measures!'. She walked to the bed, lying on it with her back turned to him. It was not hard to form tears under the circumstances. Just thinking about how she would never ride Arod again sufficed to weld tears in her eyes and an unspeakable pain in her heart. 

Legolas did not falter in his undressing, but having shed his filthy outer coat remained standing, pinching the bridge of his nose. The anxiety that had ruffled him like a merciless northern wind refused to die. 'MORDOR!' he thought and the northern wind gained a new icy touch to it. Fury joined his anxiety. Then worry. And anger. He dropped his hand, looking at her figure on the bed, her back turned to him as silent sobs shook her ever so slightly. He took a frustrated sigh and clenched his jaws, looking away. 'NO!' he thought and mentally slapped himself. 'No! Not this time! No forgiveness!' He continued taking off his outer tunic, revealing the linen shirt underneath. A grim determination was on his face. 'No!' he thought again. He had been merciless once. As cold as a block of ice. And why the heck couldn't be so, again?! He bit down the moan of frustration and almost tore the tunic off himself, throwing it to the corner of the cave-chamber. 

At the persisting sound of sniffing, he rose his hand to his face and tried very hard to believe that he was NOT losing the battle, damn it! He crossed his arms on his chest, turning to her then, anger blooming in him. "Irulan, stop crying!" he said sharply. 

She did not answer right away. Then sniffed lightly. "Alright, Legolas," was her muffled reply. Legolas rolled his eyes in desperation. 'I'll be damned!' he thought. 'Not AGAIN!' 

"You know that I am right!" he said, his tone thankfully coming out heartless enough.

She nodded without turning around. That just gave him another punch in the stomach as he ran his hand through his hair. 'I can do this!' he thought then, trying to grasp the last remnants of his failing determinism. 

"It is for your own good," he said dryly. 

"It is," she whispered, sniffing some more. 

'That's it!' thought Legolas then with dismay. 'It is not fair to ask for further strength!' He hesitated only for a moment before he sat on the bed. 

"Don't you see how wrong and dangerous this is for a queen?" he sighed with a tinge of frustration. "You can not be so idle about your well-being anymore, Irulan."

"I know," came her muffled cry of a response.

'Do NOT give in!' his mind said, but his body was in no mood to listen as it lay down behind her. Legolas placed his arm around her waist and knew right then and there that he had lost. Not to mention....AGAIN! For with her touch and her scent, with the warmth that he had missed fiercely only in a matter of days, once again he had lost the entire argument. 

"Stop crying," he said again, but it sounded far softer. 

Though the elf took her next sigh as another attempt to cease her weeping, it was more a sigh of relief on Irulan's behalf. "Sorry," she whispered back, already feeling much lighter. 

She felt him propping himself up on his elbow and his hand traveled to her hair, gently combing through it. "What if anything had happened to you, Irulan?" he said and it was meant to be a scolding, but came out more like a plea. 

Irulan swallowed softly. She was victorious yet again and embarrassing enough, was not feeling worse for it. "You must think me so stupid," she said with a whine. 

"You know I do not," was the gentle reply.

"And selfish, too," she sniffed, amazed at how cruel she could become for her own interests and yet failing to stop herself. 

"No, Irulan," he said, his fingers not ceasing their caress. 

Irulan pursed her lips and turned to face him, then. "Really?" she whispered as his hand found her cheek while Legolas remained gazing down at her. 

"Of course," he whispered in return, very aware that the balance had tipped completely but at the moment, not giving a damn. 

"I suppose you will never forgive me," she said after a moment's silence, looking up at him and thinking that she had missed Legolas more than life itself. 

The elf sighed and looked away. "Promise not to repeat such a foolish action," he said then, even though he knew that Irulan had promised him dozens of times and yet broken her promises, each time insisting that her promise did not include this or that particular situation. 

"I promise that I will not go to Mordor with Eowyn, Arwen and Dernhelm, again," she said swiftly. 'Which means that I can go without the company of Dernhelm, and yet not break my promise,' she thought simultaneously. Legolas gave her a long, dubious look and she rose up to kiss him lightly on the lips. He closed his eyes, accepting complete, absolute and definite defeat. Irulan sank back down, but her fingers combed through his hair as the elf swallowed softly to keep himself at bay. 

"So you forgive me then?" she said, smiling a fabulous smile. And alas, who could resist that? 

"I do," he whispered, gliding his fingers over her cheek to wipe away the remnants of tears. 

"Good," was the impish reply, "because I have missed you, Legolas."

"Have you really?" he whispered, his mind churning and his heart burning. The woman nodded and pulled him down for another kiss as Legolas gladly obliged, his lips claiming hers with open desperation, passion and hunger. "And I have missed you," he added as he pulled her closer yet, kissing her neckline. Irulan tangled her hands in his hair and he sighed, the feeling of that undoing his last defenses. 

He kissed her deeper yet, his tongue softly brushing over her lower lip and asking for entrance, but Irulan playfully denied it and suddenly drew back. He swallowed softly, the desire in him pulsing like a vein, and remained unmoving as she smiled and kissed his temple, then his forehead. "You must be tired from all the riding," she said, her fingers once again gliding through his long hair. 

"Nay, I am fine," he whispered, leaning in for another kiss, but she pushed herself up and sat on the bed as the elf mimicked her, refusing to back away. 

"Oh no, you certainly are tired," she said, her fingers gliding down his temple to his jaw. Legolas grasped them and placed gentle kisses on the tips without looking away from her. She smiled in reply and turned to leave, but he held her waist, moving closer. 

"Stay," he whispered as he kissed her again and Irulan once again broke it a moment later, to look away. "What is it?" Legolas said softly, caressing her cheek and trying to keep the desperation off his voice. 

"Nothing," she mumbled.

"Tell me, my love," he said, placing a kiss on her cheek, his lips leaving a hot trail towards her ear as his hand trailed around her waist. 

"It is just……..," she sighed, and bit her lower lip, then continued, "will you really take Arod from me?" she blurted finally. 

Legolas halted then. He pursed his lips and waited another moment. "You leave me no other option," he said softly, leaning his forehead on her temple.

Irulan sighed in frustration and turned her back to him, sitting on the edge of the bed. "How can you be so cruel?" she whimpered. 

"Irulan.." he sighed, but she cut him off: 

"You gave him to me!"

"I did."

"And now you will take him from me!" she whined. 

Legolas took a deep breath and ran his hand along her neck, but she turned her face the other way. He swallowed softly. "Irulan……do not shut me out. Please," he whispered with a tinge of alarm. She did not move or answer and he cautiously glided to sit behind her, gently encircling her waist and pushing her hair away to kiss her neck. "You can ride when we are together," he said in a soothing manner as the taste of her skin took over his psyche like some strange disease. "But let us speak later," he whispered then, his kisses trailing to her ear again, "I have missed you too much."

"My heart is too heavy with this news," she said stubbornly and tried to sit up again. 

The elf strengthened his grip on her and forced her to remain seated. "It is dangerous," he hissed in frustration, his need for her intimacy pulling him with incredible force. 

She turned to him suddenly and her hand traveled up to play with the front of his linen shirt. He swallowed softly again, his eyes not leaving her face to keep his concentration away from her touch. Which, by the way, was not working at all. "Please?" she said almost inaudibly, her soft gaze locking with his. Legolas turned his face then, anger brushing its wings over him once more. Anger at her persistence. Anger at her carelessness about her state. Or his state, for that matter. And most of all, anger at his own weakness – at the temptation to give in. She shifted slightly to sit closer, then pulled his hand up to place a long, warm kiss in his palm. He did not look at her, but he really did not need to look at this point. That terrible urge to give her anything and everything was coming. He knew it as he knew his own name. "Please," she whispered again, her fingers running over his as he exhaled with frustration. 

"You do not play fair," he said finally, glancing back at her. 

"Please, my husband," she said, a fabulous smile on her lips. 

He chuckled and softly shook his head. A moment later he encircled her waist and plastered her against himself with a single, strong pull. "You know," he growled, his lips brushing against hers, "that I can not resist when you call me so." He kissed her softly, his passion growing with every passing moment as he deepened the kiss and his tongue delved into her warm mouth, dancing a slow, enchanting dance with hers. 

"Does that mean that I can keep Arod?" Irulan said when she was lowered on the bed and Legolas' hands glided along her torso to the neckline of her dress, to pull it down to expose her shoulder. 

"You can keep everything. All is yours," he whispered while his lips glided over the curve of her shoulder. 

Neither spoke again for the remainder of the night. 

****

"How did it go?" Eowyn asked as she sat at the large table for breakfast while the servants scurried around to fulfill the commands of Gimli, who avoided the women as if avoiding a plague. 

"Legolas was REALLY fuming, I tell you!" Irulan hissed, her gaze fixed on the entrance where the men were exchanging words concerning which route to take for their return to Lothlorien and Ithilien. "I had to cry -cry like some damn child!- to soften him."

The blonde girl grinned openly to that. "How come it works each and every time, I wonder?" 

Irulan gave her an annoyed glance. "You would not understand, Eowyn. It is called 'love'."

"Oh and I suppose I am also to believe that you felt guilty for doing so?"

"Well," began Irulan, a little disturbed, "I did." At the stare she received from her friend, she added "A little."

Arwen seated herself at the table at that moment. "So when is our next trip, ladies?" she said, smelling her mug and wrinkling her nose at the strong smell of dwarven tea. 

"I hear the Shire is gorgeous in the winter time," grinned Eowyn. 

"Really?" said Irulan in excitement, trying to picture in her mind how it might look with snow-covered fields. 

The blonde woman nodded in amusement. At Irulan's gaze that glided to the company of men, she snorted and added "Relax, woman! I mean, what is the worst they can do?"

The reply was a sheepish look. "I had to spill tears for Arod yesterday!" 

"That elf is cruel, I tell you," Arwen hissed. Her face broke momentarily into amusement then. "Aragorn would never dare to do such a thing. He is so sensitive when it comes to me." She chuckled at that and her friends joined her. 

"I think you misjudge the Chief Advisor. He can be cruel too, trust me," moaned Irulan. 

"Yes but you have to be crueler," grinned Arwen and when she did it, it was too beautiful to be called a grin. When Irulan just stared at her with a curious expression, she sighed in mock desperation. "I had to lecture him how fine and sentimental creature elves were and that my heart would not take such coarseness and that I would be forced to.....'isolate' myself from him if he insisted on inflicting pure torture on my very soul with his harsh words!"

"As always," murmured Irulan then, "I am amazed by your devilry, Arwen. I mean...how come you did not manage to get Legolas with that cunning mind of yours?"

Arwen rolled her eyes. "How many times do I need to say it? It only works when the man has a HEART, Irulan."

The other woman laughed at that, taking a sip from her tea and hastily adding honey by the spoonful to it to make the bitter fluid at least a little sweeter. 

"So are we going?" insisted Eowyn, grabbing a piece of bread and heartily chewing on it. 

"What about Haldir?"

"Ah please," she moaned in response, mumbling the words in her mouth. "NO ONE tames Eowyn!" She joined Irulan in her obsersvation of the men as the group broke up and advanced the table. "He needs to be reminded that I have other options, that's all it takes."

"Other options?"

Eowyn grinned then, though it was a very rude thing to do with food in your mouth. "Like Dernhelm, you know."

"Dernhelm again, Eowyn?" said Haldir in a low growl as he seated himself next to her. 

At the same moment Legolas leaned in to place a warm kiss on Irulan's cheek and proceeded to sit next to her, encircling her waist with his arm. "How are you feeling, my love?" he said gently. 

"I am fine. Turns out that I am not ill after all, Legolas," she said, sipping the tea that simply refused to get sweeter, no matter what. 

The elf exhaled in relief. "You do not feel nauseous or dizzy any longer?" Irulan shook her head in all innocence and he smiled, squeezing her hand softly before he leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on the corner of her lips. The dwarven servants ceased all action for a moment, watching this bewildering exchange. Irulan smiled and turned to look at him and the King took this opportunity to place another gentle kiss on her lips, not caring if the whole world was there to witness. She had gotten used to his careless ways and only smiled in amusement as he kissed her hand and then turned to the table to face the rest. 

"You were ill, Lady Irulan?" Haldir said with slight alarm. 

"No. I thought I might be. But....I am fine today," she said, feeling that damnable guilt again for playing Legolas so. But then...he had threatened to take away Arod! He deserved this much cruelty for sure!

"Really?" was Aragorn's dry reply, but he did not get any further as Arwen gave him a cool stare and the Ranger cleared his throat, proceeding to load his plate. 

"We were just saying," began Eowyn a moment later, gulping down the food in her mouth to continue, "That Rivendell is worthy of visit in the winter time."

At that, Legolas halted and a long minute later slowly leaned back in his chair, giving Eowyn a long and penetrating gaze. The blonde woman's reply to that was merely chewing. 

"Yes! So I asked Irulan and Eowyn to visit me in a month or so," added Arwen with a light voice. 

The three men turned around and this time gave the Princess that irritating, silent and -dare she say it- VERY judging look. Arwen, very unaffected, sipped her tea and to Irulan's amazement, did not grimace with the sharpness of it. 

"You DO have an annual meeting with the Nine Tribes around that time. It lasts a whole week, Legolas and I barely see you then, you being almost constantly in meeting with them," Irulan cut in, eager to convince him. 

Legolas grinded his teeth and looked down at his plate, his fingers playing with his own mug. 

"Eowyn," gasped Haldir, no longer able to keep it in, "you will ride to Rivendell in the winter time? The passes are dangerous around that time of the year!"

Eowyn gave him only an annoyed sidelong glare as a response. 

"I am sure that you can find other and more appropriate times to meet," Legolas said dismissively, taking a sip from his own mug and barely keeping himself from giving the tea an horrified look at the taste of it. Instead, he cleared his throat and smiled at a servant who gently placed bread on his plate. 

"But the point is to go in winter!" insisted Irulan, almost whining. 

The King, very suspicious about this upcoming meeting turned to her, but was distracted when Eowyn spoke up again: "If you do not trust us -and I can see that you do NOT-" she said with a hiss, "we can take another with us."

The men gave her a wary glance. "Don't tell me that you mean-" began Aragorn, feeling highly disturbed by this whole Dernhelm issue, himself, when his King spoke up: 

"No," hissed Legolas and closed his eyes momentarily to regain his control. "No Dernhelm," he added a moment later and his voice said that it was absolute. 

"I was thinking more in terms of........Master Gimli!" Eowyn replied then and the dwarf, just having approached the table and seeing all eyes turn to him, squirmed with discomfort, looking from one face to the other. 

"Yes? Is something the matter?" he grumbled finally. 

"No, nothing. We want you to travel with us, that's all," grinned Irulan in delight. 

The dwarf flushed extensively, then threw a pleading look at the company of men present. "M-ME?!"

"Who better?" mused Arwen, folding her fingers gracefully in front of her and leaning in onto the table. "With such a wise, courageous, cunning man beside us, I am certain that we will have nothing to fear." The smile she gave Gimli was downright reptilian and the dwarf gulped in reply to it. 

"Eh.....I would!" he laughed nervously, seating himself and shifting on his chair with discomfort, "but you see.......eh.......I need to remain.....I mean......I rule the Glittering Caves, in Balin's name!"

"Well I suppose that leaves us with Dernhelm," sighed Arwen with mock frustration. 

Legolas' eyes widened at that and he shot Gimli a very meaningful look before he spoke "Master Gimli.....though it must be a very straining deed for you.....and certainly nothing we can ask for, we would feel more than indebted if you agreed to escort the ladies to Rivendell."

"B-but......" began the dwarf, looking from one man to the other, and finding only his own doom written there, "but.......,"

"I have to attend council meetings and Aragorn needs to be present as well," Legolas added then. 

"And I have to check on my patrols at the border," muttered Haldir in discomfort, unconsciously drinking the tea, his face gaining a priceless look at the taste of it. Eowyn grinned silently at his struggle to prevent a cough. 

Aragorn bit down a moan. "Please, Master Gimli. I am sure that it will not be a too....burdensome.....travel for you."

The dwarf gave the company a set of disbelieving looks, his mind working ferociously but not finding anything useful to his advantage. Irulan, Eowyn and Arwen were giving him that peculiar smile and something in his guts told him that he should prefer torture in the dungeons of Barad-Dur to going on a ride with these women. Not to mention that they were not very fond of him at the moment. "I......I guess," he whispered several moments later, "I guess I could manage."

The women beamed, their smiles turning into grins and it looked absolutely horrifying while the dwar's shoulders sagged in perfect defeat. "Deal then!" boomed Eowyn and laughed, Irulan and Arwen joining her. Irulan leaned in to place a hearty kiss on Legolas' cheek and he smiled down at her, gently slipping his fingers in between hers. No matter how hard he tried, he simply could not deny his wife anything. 

At that very moment a hefty cough broke, making the women flinch and the rest of the company turn around to behold an Aragorn, at the brink of certain death by the looks of it. He coughed a few more times, tears straining down his cheeks with the attempt and only minutes later managed to push the mug of tea away as if it was pure poison and croak "What in Uroth's name is THAT??!!"

****

Things went quiet for a while. As always. Irulan returned to the castle and once more there were days and weeks of joy and tranquility. And once again, they soothed the Legolas' frustration and worry, pushing the memory of her recent deeds to the background. That was essential, of course, for it prepared the foundation for the next adventure. And a next adventure always came. She never quit being daring and rebellious and he never managed to be anything else than frustrated and angry, and yet weak in the face of her sorrow or pain. 

As with anything else, Legolas refused to be normal and limited in his relationship with Irulan. He made a habit of drowning her in a shower of surprises and presents, that ranged from gravely strange to sweet and cute. It was true that Irulan had no interest in riches, and she would remain so until her final days. So the task of finding something to her liking was even a more challenging one, and the King loved the struggle as much as her expression of joy and gratitude at his victory. So he sought and found the strangest objects in Middle Earth - strange animals began to roam the palace gardens, brought in from lands so far from Ithilien, that only very few knew their names. The couple planted odd seeds out of which even odder plants sprouted, watching them bloom and give fruit. He found rocks from the highest peaks of mountains or the deepest bottoms of caves. Dragon scales or teeth of an animal that was said to terrorize the oceans. He brought her gowns from foreign cultures, woven or stitched in unusual fashion and Irulan loved to wear those, none of them looking unbefitting on the queen of a land like Ithilien that spoke of variety and color. He obtained pieces of art from all over, and objects of weaponry. He bought books that were found nowhere else but local little towns, written and drawn by some forgotten man. Even though she sometimes did not know the language, she would glide her fingers over the pages and gaze at the pictures for hours as the elf placed his head on her lap and Irulan made up tales that went with those pictures, gliding her fingers through his hair while he listened with both rapt attention and incredible peace. 

Often he would wake up and out of sheer glee, announce the day worthy of celebration, causing a havoc amongst his staff. The servants, always caught off-guard by his sudden decisions would frantically try to prepare the palace for such happenings and a storm of bewilderment would erupt the palace corridors. By nighttime that day Irulan and Legolas would be sitting with their close friends and often the majority of the palace staff, raising goblets to the day and the nameless celebration and laughing and talking through the night. 

The King took her everywhere with him – unless it was a mission of battle and danger. They often entered official meetings hand in hand and always sat together, refusing to change their ways for any other custom or kingdom. And stranger yet, this was received with slight disapproval in the beginning, but with their persistence soon became a normal and common thing and even a matter of envy. For after all, why should the rulers of a strange place like Ithilien not be strange, themselves? And why should Middle Earth, in respect and awe of the kingdom, not follow its example?

So it was that Irulan's presence was accepted with much curiosity, nose-wrinkling and –inevitably- jealousy in other lands. Many Kings and Princes, Captains and leaders fell to her charm. The charm of her uncommon honesty, along with her down-to-earth attitude and her originality, marking her to be so different from the phony and fake women of royal circles. Women mostly disliked her for the very same reasons. In time some decided to follow her footsteps, and no need to say that this caused much thunder and tumult in their homes, since their men were yet not nearly as evolved and civilized as Legolas. 

Eowyn stayed most of the time with Haldir in Lothlorien. Any other human being in that place might have gone unnoticed. Or rather, become more elven in time, learning from their maturity and gentleness. Not Eowyn. Never Eowyn. It would suffice to say that serene and peaceful Lothlorien became a place of unexpected surprises of immensely colorful nature from then on (most of those not very acceptable in elven standards), and that many elves gained rather peculiar habits after she arrived in the famous Golden Woods. Whenever Gandalf showed up, she never missed the chance to become Dernhelm. And Dernhelm was not only as chaotic and unusual as Eowyn, but, unlike her, had the sources to put his thoughts into action. He ended up being a rather famous and respected leader in battle and action – many heard his name and went out looking for him. Many followed him around from place to place, in awe and adoration of his character. A convoy of all sorts of people formed behind him, and was left in wonder and shock when over and over again, no Dernhelm was to be found one morning at some inn and none was seen leaving it. He would be spotted somewhere else then, doing other deeds and being the source for other stories. And the mystery upon him would only contribute to his legacy. 

Unknown to Irulan, Legolas kept her family in the dungeons of his palace in utter darkness for many weeks. He visited them a few times, his cold blue gaze regarding the three women who had become much less than human beings in a matter of weeks. They stared at him with big, fearful eyes from the corners of their dark cell, in filth and rags, hardly recognizing the King of Ithilien while his elven sight distinguished them easily enough. He would stand and stare in silence, then once again feel that the punishment was yet not enough, and leave. He kept it from Irulan, afraid that such ruthlessness would intimidate her and push her away from him. Many weeks later he ordered the trio to be dispelled from the land of Ithilien with no food and no money. He even stood on his high tower, his keen eyes watching them, as they struggled to get as far away from the castle as possible, barely able to walk. His eyes rested on the women for a long time while his tender fingers caressed the soft feathers of a pigeon, perched in his other palm and his expression remained blank. The wind ruffled his hair, as the orange sun set on Ithilien. One should not forget that, though Legolas was immensely gentle, kind and tolerant –especially towards Irulan, whom he never treated roughly or rudely even for a single time in their entire lives together- he was also a ruler, a warrior and a leader who had a sharpness and blankness that came naturally with those professions. "My kingdom is a better place now," he whispered to the dove, their leaving of his premises very much like the leaving of a repelling disease to his heart. He sighed then and, gently placing the animal back in its cage, descended the stairs of the tower to join Irulan for dinner as the thought of those women already began to vanish from his mind. 

Irulan and Legolas traveled through Middle Earth as she always hoped to. And those were incredible journeys, especially since she had the best guide with her to show and explain things that would exceed Irulan's wildest dreams. And they were very different journeys from the ones she made with Arwen and Eowyn. For her trips with those two women were wild, dangerous, shocking and thrilling – each a candidate for an epic adventure. 

Like their encounter with werewolves and shape-changers in the little village that had been under the plague of these monsters in some forgotten forest. There they met a heroic girl who had dared to battle these creatures and was even crazy enough to use her own grandmother as bait to catch their leader. No need to say that Eowyn and her became best friends in no time. 

Or like the time Irulan fell prey to the jealousy of a ruthless queen of another kingdom and survived death from her hands to find herself in the kingdom of dwarves, with no memory of her former life. She worked with them in their mines for many days, personally locating and digging up mithril and finding herself in awe of the metal. That is, before she almost died of food poisoning and was saved by Legolas from certain death. 

Let us not forget the time the three women met a rather tricky fellow who ended up dragging them into an adventure that concerned forty thieves, a Palantir stone and a hidden lair in the mountain only to be accessed if one knew the right words to be uttered to move the stone that held the entrance to their cave. If not for Gandalf and his giant flying eagle, they would have never made it out of THAT one, for sure. 

Not to mention the time they joined an adventurer elf, who, in unmatched strength and talent, was on an Odyssey and ended up dragging them into fierce confrontations with a one-eyed, man eating giant Goblin, a dragon, an enchanted island and sea monsters. 

And then there was an incident of an impish man, who, together with his interesting band of brothers, was stubbornly resisting a rather cruel Captain. Irulan, Arwen and Eowyn stayed with him in his hidden reservoir in the woods for many days, assaulting the carriages of the rich royal circles to provide the poor townsfolk with the money. It just so happened that this man fell in love with the betrothed of that evil captain and it almost cost the ladies their lives to bring them together (but succeed, they did). 

If one lifetime could be reduced to a sole moment and to a single frame, we would have to imagine Irulan and Legolas walking in a dense garden with a lazy stroll. It has to be early summer, when the heat is there, but not overwhelming and when the dashing colors of spring have turned into more mature and serene hues. When the flowers and blooms have begun to glide down to the floor, beautiful even in their deaths, adorning the path where an elf and a woman walk and speak. Their words would be muffled beyond recognition. But that would mean little. For standing there, in watch of their passing, one should nevertheless feel an aura of such completeness and such silent joy, that words would fail to describe it in any manner. 

The place is of no importance. Nor is the time. Their names mean nothing. Neither do their shapes or forms, their genders or races. Important is the smile that plays across their faces and the foolishness of their topic of argument and the sound of their laughter and the touch of their fingers and the tranquility in their eyes and the joy in their very stance. Important is that particular something that grows in such atmospheres. Something that thrives in lush gardens mingled with early summer fragrances, amongst two creatures seemingly so different and yet so alike. Something that is ethereal in essence and yet stubborn enough to survive in the harshest of seasons, under pressure and grief, amongst loss and pain. That particular something that can never be found…….for it can never be lost. 

****

This day has ended. 

It is closing upon us even as the water-lily upon its own tomorrow. 

What was given us here we shall keep, 

And if it suffices not, then again must we come together and together stretch our hands unto the giver. 

Forget not that I shall come back to you. 

A little while, and my longing shall gather dust and foam for another body. 

A little while, a moment of rest upon the wind, and another woman shall bear me. 

Farewell to you and the youth I have spent with you. 

It was but yesterday we met in a dream. 

The noontide is upon us and our half waking has turned to fuller day, and we must part. 

If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song. 

And if our hands should meet in another dream, we shall build another tower in the sky. 

Khalil Gibran, The Prophet.

****


End file.
